


The Ed Sheeran Effect

by tricia_16



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Coming Out, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Matchmaker Charlie Bradbury, Prom, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:46:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricia_16/pseuds/tricia_16
Summary: Dean and Cas—inseparable best friends since sixth grade—find themselves dateless only weeks before their high school prom and eventually come to the realization that the only option left is to go together. Wanting to give his fresh out of the closet best friend the date of a lifetime, Dean pulls out all the stops and soon discovers what he's always felt towards Cas is a lot more than friendship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers, old and new! Before we jump into the fic I just want to take a minute to thank my beta reading team [ Brianna](https://twitter.com/bookbag09) and [Eliza](https://twitter.com/The_Cake_Wench). This is the first story we worked on together as a team and they are _so good_ and so fast and just an absolute joy to work with, so thank you, thank you, thank you for being my friends! (I also have to give a shout out to my friend [ Hailee](https://twitter.com/Hailee_RN) who did a read-through and offered plenty of suggestions that made this one better - thank you Hailee!)
> 
> My artist, [ dmsilvisart](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/), was so great to work with, and the art in this fic makes me smile every time I look at it! I have embedded the art, but if you want to check out the Art Master Post, you can click [here!](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/post/184619151623/this-is-my-art-masterpost-for-the-ed-sheeran)
> 
> And that (finally) is it! Get ready for the fluff, because here it comes!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

Dean stretches his lanky body out on his memory foam mattress, letting out a sigh full of worship for the way it supports him just the way he likes it. He props himself up on his headboard and flips open the magazine Lisa had given him at the end of the day for the first time, still annoyed by the text message that came in less than five minutes after he walked in the door. It probably says a lot about him as a person that the innocent question, “Did you pick one yet?” did the opposite of encouraging him. Instead, childishly, he changed into sweats, cooked dinner for him and Sammy, did the dishes, packed lunches for tomorrow, did five miles on the stupid fucking treadmill, and then showered all before he actually took five minutes to pick a tux.

For prom.

The most cliched event of every high schooler’s year, and apparently, the thing that’s going to cause him to go from placated by Lisa’s incredibly bendy body to irritated with her nagging personality. Like it isn’t enough he has to make sure to meet her every morning, lunch, and after school for a public display of affection in order to date her (“No, a peck on the cheek doesn’t count. Kiss me like you mean it, not like I’m your sister.”), he now has to pick from one of the suits she “approved” with a heart out of this magazine. She said it had something to do with her dress but he’s not an idiot. He knows a black suit goes with anything.

His eyeballs almost bug out of his damn head when he sees the first one she marked is three hundred dollars! Who the hell does she think he is? Like working weekends at Bobby’s shop changing oil is gonna make him enough money to help make rent and blow that much on something he’s only ever going to wear once. He quickly flips through the rest of the pages and decides on the cheapest one there is, which is thankfully only one hundred dollars instead of three, and he tosses the magazine on the ground with a much less satisfied sigh than he let out when he first laid down two minutes ago.

He already knows Lisa is going to have something to say about the tux he picked. Even though she marked it with a heart, it hadn’t been the five hundred dollar one she really wanted him to pick, which was hard to miss with the frame of hearts all around it.

He likes Lisa, he does. He likes her a lot. She can be incredibly sweet and funny, and when she lets her guard down when it’s just the two of them, he swears nothing is sexier than the sight of her in his sweatpants and a sports bra complete with the school ball cap on her head. Unfortunately, in-public-Lisa is a totally different person, and he can barely stand to carry on a conversation with her let alone make out with her three times a day without messing up her makeup or hair or clothes.

He looks up when he hears the sound of his bedroom window sliding open and feels some of the stress evaporate just at the sight of his best friend crawling inside. As usual, Cas catches the toe of his Converse sneakers on the windowsill and stumbles in, but the familiarity just makes him smile. “Hey, Cas.”

He doesn’t get a good look at his face, but when Cas flops onto his bed next to him and buries his face in his pillow with a groan, he knows something’s up.

He also knows that Cas will tell him what it is when he’s ready, so he tears his eyes away from the back of Cas’s head where his perpetual bedhead is sticking up endearingly and stares at the ceiling instead, enjoying the comfortable quiet while it lasts.

He and Cas go way back, all the way to sixth grade when Dean was once again the new kid on the first day of school. He never had any problems making friends, but that year he was held back a year because he missed so many classes, and he felt weird about it. Thankfully, he and Cas hit it off better than most when another kid made fun of Cas’s Scooby-Doo shirt and Dean jumped to his defence that very first day. They’ve been inseparable ever since. With both of their parents working all of the time (his mom is a waitress and Cas’s dad is always out of town because of the publishing company he owns) they naturally just fell into a routine of hanging out. Summers spent biking to the nearest lake to go swimming or fishing gradually transformed into gaming sessions, double dates, and working out at the gym, but through all of it, they were thicker than thieves. Nobody got along better with him and Sam than Cas, and though his mom wasn’t home often with working double shifts all the time, even she always says “my three boys” when she talks about her kids because Cas is as good as family.

Which may have something to do with the shock he feels over what happens next.

Cas turns onto his back, throwing his arm over his face so the inside of his elbow drapes across his eyes, and says, “I just broke up with Meg.”

“What? Why?”

Cas and Meg have been together for over three months now, even longer than him and Lisa. Actually, Cas starting to date Meg is what made Dean start looking for a girlfriend in the first place. He used to hang out with Cas after school every single day, then when he started dating Meg, Dean had all this free time that he didn’t know what to do with. He was happy for Cas, and though it was hard to get used to not spending as much time with him, a part of him knew it was going to happen sooner or later. So he dated a few girls before he got to know Lisa, and now the two of them have been exclusive for the last three weeks.

“I’m afraid you’re going to hate me if I tell you,” Cas answers him, dragging him away from his thoughts.

“What?” Dean laughs lightly, amused by even the thought of hating Cas. “Don’t be stupid. You know me and Meg have always fought like cats and dogs. I couldn’t care less about why you broke up other than why you look like somebody ran over your gerbil.”

 _“His name_ is Fluffy,” Cas defends, but even though Cas isn’t looking at him, he can hear the smile Cas is trying to hold in. There’s another long few minutes of silence where Dean patiently waits him out before Cas talks again. “We broke up because I didn’t want to have sex with her.”

That kind of blows his mind, because as much as he doesn’t like Meg, it’s easy to see she’s hot. What’s not to like? “Why not?”

“I... I can’t talk about this with you,” Cas huffs, rolling away from him now.

Dean frowns, trying to figure out what the hell that’s supposed to mean. They’ve talked about everything from Dean’s old man dying, not having enough money for groceries, Cas helping him with English and him helping Cas with math. They’ve seen each other barfing, fevered, with the shits, covered in zits, and with unexpected boners. Dean told him every detail of every base he covered with Lisa and how it felt sliding home (wet and tight but not as earth shattering as TV made it seem) and now Cas doesn’t even want to tell him why he and his girlfriend broke up?

“Tough shit,” Dean says. “That’s what we do. None of this secret crap, not with us.”

“I’d rather keep a secret than lose you as a friend.”

And okay, now he’s officially worried. “What’s going on Cas? We’re freakin’ family, man. If you did something you regret or made an ass out of yourself, we can fix it. We always do.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last three months,” he mutters.

What the hell is he talking about now? “No comprende.”

“I didn’t want to have sex with her because - because - she doesn’t turn me on,” Cas explains.

“Okay,” he says slowly, dragging it out while he tries to think of what to say. “That’s fair. Got bored, realized she wasn’t your type, whatever. It happens. We’re in high school,” he reminds him, giving him a light nudge. “Who cares? Take some time to get outta your funk and we’ll hook you up with whoever gets your motor running. No harm, no -”

“I’m gay,” Cas blurts.

“ - foul,” Dean finishes before his brain catches up with what Cas actually said. He blinks, the words he just heard not syncing with what he knows they actually mean. “What?”

“I’m gay,” Castiel says again, sounding more sure of himself this time. “I’m gay and I didn’t want to have sex with Meg because the only way I could even get hard when she touched me is if I closed my eyes and thought about a guy.”

“Huh,” Dean says quietly. He never would’ve guessed. Hell, he thought he knew Cas better than he knew himself, but apparently Cas has been keeping that locked up real tight. “So I guess she _really_ wasn’t your type,” he quips, shooting Cas a grin.

Cas seems more surprised than he is when he laughs, and Cas even rolls over long enough to catch his eyes, but his smile fades just as fast as it came. “Don’t you care?”

“I care that you’re upset about Meg, and I’m kinda pissed you never told me, but other than that?” He shrugs. “Not really.”

“You don’t care that your best friend’s gay?”

“No,” Dean answers honestly. “You thought I would?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says guiltily, which might as well be a _yes._ “I worried you wouldn’t be open to us having the same kind of friendship if you knew I was attracted to guys.”

“Don’t be stupid. You know I’m tight with Charlie and _she’s_ gay, and besides, you wanting to fuck guys instead of girls has nothing to do with you and me, right?”

“So you don’t see any problem with my sexuality and sharing a bed, for example?”

Dean snorts shallowly. “We’ve been sharing a bed a few times a week since we were 12. I sleep better with you than I do without you most of the time,” he admits, blushing slightly despite himself. “I seriously don’t care. At all.” For the first time, Cas relaxes entirely beside him. He hates to bring it up, but it’s gotta be said. “It kind of puts a damper in the plans for prom, though.”

“No, Meg was... surprisingly cool with it. She guessed I was gay before I told her,” he says, sounding embarrassed. “She said we could still go to prom together as friends if I wanted to.”

“You don’t want to find a guy to go with or something instead?” Dean wonders.

Cas shakes his head. “No, I don’t want other people to know.”

“How come?” Dean asks, turning onto his side to look him in the face.

“Not everybody’s like you, Dean. People will be mean.”

“And if they are then I’ll punch their fucking lights out,” he answers.

“And then you’ll get suspended. No. You can’t just punch everybody who’s homophobic.” Castiel’s eyes are warm though, and there’s a softness to his voice despite his chastising words.

“Watch me. It’s twenty fucking nineteen. They have it coming if they can’t get their heads outta their asses.”

Cas rolls his eyes playfully. “Maybe I’ll tell people in college. Once I get out of this town.”

Dean nods his agreement. “That’s cool. I can punch whoever’s a dick to you in college, too.”

Cas lets out a small huff of laughter. “I don’t doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, then Cas asks, “Want me to help you pick out your Lisa-approved tux?”

He feels simultaneously relieved and annoyed with the way Cas’s blue eyes are dancing with laughter, so he punches him _,_ making Cas yelp as he grabs at his shoulder. “Hey!” Cas complains. “At least I didn’t laugh when she handed you the magazine to begin with.”

“No, you just harassed me about it the whole way home from school.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Cas insists, grinning one of his gummy smiles.

After a few minutes of Cas actually flipping through the magazine, Dean asks, “You stayin’ over?”

Cas seems to waver for a few seconds. “Did you get my jeans washed from the other day?”

“Yeah, did ‘em in the last load.”

“And you really don’t mind now that I’m, you know, out?” Cas checks again.

“You ask me again and I’m gonna have to punch you for real,” Dean threatens. “No, I don’t care. You’re still the same today as you were last week.”

Later that night, once the lights are turned off and they’re both on their stomachs, facing each other, Cas whispers, “You won’t tell anybody, right? Not even Lisa?”

“‘Course not,” he promises.

“Thank you. And thanks for understanding, too. I wish I told you before,” he admits.

“Me too. Any other major life secrets I should know about?”

“I think that’s it for tonight,” Cas says, his lips tugging into a smile at the corner.

“No matter what, you know you can talk to me, right? Family and all that shit,” he reminds him.

Cas nods, offers a tight smile, then rolls away. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“‘Night, man.”

He falls asleep faster with Cas’s familiar warmth next to him than he ever does alone, and wakes up with his cheek smushed to his friend’s back as usual.

That morning, he, Cas, and Sam finish off a box of Froot Loops for breakfast and head to school. Sam breaks off to go hang out with his ninth grade friends once they get there, and Dean heads to his locker to ditch his lunch and his dad’s old leather jacket before taking off towards Lisa’s locker for his required good morning make out session.

As they walk through the quad and into the hallway, he shoots his signature grin at the people who turn to look his way, which seems like more people than usual. He and Cas share a confused look, which is proof enough to know he’s not imagining the extra attention, but he brushes it off by saying, “Guess I gotta wear this shirt more often, huh?”

Cas rolls his eyes but Dean can feel his body shake with laughter where their shoulders brush while they walk. “Like you need more admirers.”

That only makes him smile wider. He’s far from the most popular kid in school, but he’s always been well-liked, and that has only increased since he started dating Lisa. One of the most frequent things they argue about is that he refuses to bail on his usual lunch table with Cas, Charlie, Jo, Sam, and his friends Kevin and Jess to sit with Lisa and her friends just because they started dating. She keeps telling him that he would be so much more popular if he sat with her, her cheerleading friends, and inevitably, the football jocks they date, but he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t have anything specific against the jocks and cheerleaders, but he likes his friends too much to ditch them. Besides that, when they’re strapped for cash, Cas either packs enough for the both of them to eat or buys his lunch, and he doesn’t need Lisa or any of the others to catch onto that. He doesn’t think Lisa would be a jerk about it, but most high school kids are so he doesn’t want to take any chances.

Finally reaching Lisa’s locker, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her middle, hooking his neck over her shoulder and placing a chaste kiss on her neck. “Morning, Lis,” he says quietly.

She turns enough to kiss him softly, transferring some goopy lip gloss onto his lips which he pulls away to wipe off with a huff of annoyance. She bats at him playfully, resting her hands on his chest. “How dare you wipe off my kiss!”

“Not the kiss, just the fruity crap,” he promises, his hands settling onto her hips again.

He hears a quiet snort from Cas and catches his eye with a grin, but that’s when Lisa goes stiff as a board in his arms and turns to face him.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” she asks, looking at Cas pointedly.

“Same thing he does every morning,” Dean answers easily. “Waiting for me to go to class.”

“Can I talk to you for a second in private?” she asks, eying Cas like he’s something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

Dean sees Cas deflate like a balloon, his shoulders slumping and his gaze falling to the floor, and he lies without another thought. “Sorry, can’t,” Dean says, giving her a pout as if he really gives a shit about whatever she wants to talk about after she made his best friend look like that. “Maybe at lunch, though, kay?” he asks, running his palms down the backs of her arms comfortingly. “I gotta go.” He leans in for another quick kiss, ignoring the way she tries to pull him in for a longer, more substantial one, and gives her a flirtatious wink for appearances sake. “See ya!”

He and Cas barely make it around the corner before they both burst out laughing at the look of shock and surprise on Lisa’s face when he walked away.

“You know you’re going to pay for that,” Cas warns him, but he’s still smiling.

“Whatever,” Dean laughs, falling into step beside his best friend and slapping a friendly hand down on his shoulder. “I’m not putting up with anybody talking to you like that, no matter how bendy they are.”

Cas shakes his head in amusement. “You know she’s probably got a dozen guys lined up to take your place, right?”

Dean shrugs. “It’d save me a hundred bucks on a suit,” he jokes. “Seriously, though. I’m gonna talk to her about looking at you like that. If she can’t get along with you she can find a new guy to parade around the school.”

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean’s hand falls off of Cas’s shoulder when he turns his head towards a plain looking girl with long dark hair. He recognizes her but doesn’t know her name. “What’s up?”

“Is it true you serenaded Lisa with an Ed Sheeran song for her promposal?”

Cas tries and fails to turn his laugh into a cough, causing Dean to push him into the nearest bank of lockers for cover before he nods. “Yep.”

“That is _so_ romantic,” the girl gushes, turning away with a dreamy sigh.

Cas gives him a one handed push in retaliation as they start walking towards their classroom again, and when he catches his balance they walk the rest of the way with their shoulders brushing with each step.

Dean pins him with a look and says, “If you bust a gut every time somebody asks me about that people are gonna get suspicious, you know.”

“For good reason,” Cas says quietly, and Dean wishes he could stifle his smile, but he snickers instead.

The truth is, he actually asked Lisa to go to prom in a text message, which is where she informed him she’d accept and be his date as long as he would be okay with her spreading the rumor of a “promposal”. Considering he didn’t have to do anything other than lie, he went with it, but he had no freaking clue how cheesy she’d make him sound.

“Bet you ten bucks you couldn’t even name an Ed Sheeran song,” Cas whispers.

“Shut up. He did that Lord of the Rings one,” he defends.

That just sends Cas into another fit of laughter. “Don’t tell people you sang _that,_ it’s about a village burning down,” he says once he’s composed himself.

Dean laughs along with him despite himself and plops into his usual seat in homeroom, slides his binder onto his desk... and realizes every single person in the two rows in front of him are turned around in their seats and looking at him and Cas.

“Did Cas draw a dick on my face while I was sleeping or something?” he asks, and half of the room laughs while the other half looks absolutely horrified. He glances over at Cas, who shrugs in confusion with his lips twitching the tiniest little bit.

“Tough crowd,” Cas says, once again making him grin.

Everybody else thinks Cas is so serious all the time, but he has no idea how they don’t see the laughter in his eyes the way he does.

Just then, the bell rings, and everybody turns away when the teacher walks in. The rest of the class goes by without incident, but he gets even _more_ looks as he walks to his next class without Cas. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and once he’s in his seat again with Charlie next to him, he checks to see he has a message from Sam.

 **SAM:** Have you heard the rumor going around about Cas?  
**DEAN:** No, what is it?

Before the response comes, Mr. Crowley walks in and barks, “Phones away! And as usual, if I see them in your grubby little hands again they’ll be deposited so deep inside an orifice of my choice you’ll never think of the phrase _butt dial_ in the same way ever again.”

Dean chuckles and pockets his phone, then groans when Mr. Crowley continues with, “Pop quiz. Get ready.”

Something feels off. Castiel isn’t sure what it is yet, and it’s possible he’s feeling paranoid over everything that has transpired over the last 24 hours, but he doesn’t get the feeling people are looking at Dean because he’s hot. That’s not to say people _aren’t_ looking at Dean because he’s hot, because he’s sure some are as they always do, but for the first time in his life, he feels like people are looking at him instead of Dean.

He and Dean have been best friends since he was eleven years old, and even back then he had noticed that Dean was a good looking kid. At the time, it wasn’t anything more than that, but it didn’t take him long to realize he felt differently about Dean than he did other kids. That’s the difference between friends and best friends, though. Or at least that’s what he thought until the first time he could no longer deny his attraction to Dean.

He still remembers it like it was yesterday. They were at the lake getting ready to go swimming for the first time that summer, the same thing they’ve done the last four years, but this time, he and Dean had just started working out a few months prior. When Dean took his shirt off to jump into the water Castiel had just stood there, all coherent thought gone, as he gaped at the newly formed muscles in Dean’s back flexing as he ran. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of the enticing view of Dean’s broad shoulders and slender hips until he realized he was half-hard and quickly getting harder each second he looked at him.

He tried to shake it off as a one time only thing. He was fifteen at the time; popping unexpected and unexplained erections was nothing new or surprising anymore. Except it kept happening, and not only for Dean, but for other guys in the changeroom if he didn’t look away fast enough, too, and even though he didn’t mean to, his eyes kept drifting to the men in the porn he watched instead of the women.

That’s when he decided to start dating Meg. He didn’t want to be gay. He wanted to be just like Dean, just like everybody else (or so it seemed), so when she asked him out, he said yes. When she kissed him, he kissed her back, and when she lifted his hand to cup her breast, he went with it and pretended it was as awesome as she expected him to think it was even though secretly, he was completely unaffected.

He wasn’t at all prepared for Dean to start dating Lisa, which had been naive of him. The sharp stab of pain he felt the first time he saw Dean kiss her at school had been debilitating. He could hardly breathe through it let alone look away, and the sight of Dean’s plush lips pressed against somebody else’s haunted him every time he closed his eyes for days. But then Dean told him he wasn’t really into kissing her at school, and somehow knowing he didn’t really like it eased some of the pain. He could relate to kissing somebody when he didn’t want to and knew how little it could mean, so he didn’t let seeing it bother him as much after that.

He wasn’t surprised when he found out Dean lost his virginity considering everybody in the school was well aware Lisa wasn’t shy about sex, and even though he knew it was never like he really had a chance to be with Dean that way, he still felt like an opportunity had been stolen from him. _He_ wanted to be the one Dean fumbled with in the dark, their inexperience leading to laughter instead of awkwardness, Dean’s muscular body pinning _him_ down into the mattress, not Lisa. But it was too late.

Once Meg found out Dean and Lisa had done it, she started pressuring him. Never mind the fact that he only managed to get hard a handful of times even with her rubbing all over him or sucking his dick into her mouth, and those times had been because he was thinking about guys (trying not to think about what Dean might look like on his knees in front of him, looking up at him with those bright green eyes and unfairly lewd lips spread thin around him). He didn’t want to have sex for the first time with a woman, thinking about another man when he knew he was gay, and he knew she was never going to take no for an answer, so he broke up with her.

Then he had to tell Dean, which was much more difficult than breaking Meg’s heart. He knew the friendship he and Dean had was beyond what most people experience. They’re closer, almost inseparable, and though Dean always said it was like they were family... he definitely doesn’t feel familial with Dean. Sam, yes, he could easily think of Sam as a younger brother, but not Dean. He was petrified he would tell Dean his deepest secret and things would change between them. He knew Dean would accept him as a friend, but he would have been heartbroken if they no longer spent so much time together, walked too closely in the hallway, or shared a bed. It was a lot to ask of Dean, to hope he wouldn’t want to change those things after he told him his true sexuality, but he should have known. He should have known Dean was the kind of man who wouldn’t care.

Falling asleep in his best friend’s bed after he came out, it was almost impossible not to let his mind wander. He felt Dean drift off next to him as rapidly as he always does when they sleep together, hitting the pillow and going out like a light, but he laid awake longer. He didn’t dare turn over to look at Dean’s face the way he wanted to, because he’s already lost too many hours of sleep by taking in every millimeter of his friend’s face soft with sleep in the past. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it, and it definitely doesn’t mean he didn’t secretly swoon when not a half hour after Dean fell asleep he felt him wiggle forwards, throw his arm around him, and smush his face into Castiel’s back with a soft sound of pleasure low in his throat.

He’s never told Dean, but he _always_ does that when they sleep together. He always seeks him out, moves closer, pulls him against him. He would sleep in Dean’s bed every night of his life just to feel the happiness that permeates him in those moments. In those moments, he can forget that Dean is straight and having sex with his limber girlfriend on a regular basis, and instead, he gives into the fantasy that Dean returns his feelings for him. That Dean knows Castiel has been hopelessly in love with him since before he even knew what it was he was feeling, and Dean wants the same things he does.

When he wakes up in the morning with Dean’s face still pressed against his back, he berates himself and repeats in his head over and over that these kinds of thoughts will only lead to getting his heart broken... but he knows he’ll do it again the next time anyway.

And since he’s sure the people in their first period class don’t know the way they woke up together, and he didn’t, in fact, draw a dick on Dean’s face overnight, he has no idea why they’re all looking at them - looking _at him -_ the way they are, but he’s sure it’s nothing good.

When he and Dean go their separate ways after the bell rings, he’s absolutely certain it’s him and not Dean. Never in his life has he felt so many pairs of eyes on him and him alone, and it only gets worse when he walks into his math class, which he unfortunately shares with a handful of guys on the football team. One of them makes a lewd hand gesture and does something with his tongue to make it look like he’s giving a blow job as Castiel walks by, and he flushes and takes his seat with his head down, trying to convince himself it’s a coincidence.

Meg and Dean are the only people who know, and surely neither of them would tell his secret? The football players are just douchebags, or at least that’s what Dean always tells him, so he ignores it. He pretends he doesn’t feel a dozen pairs of eyes on him throughout the whole class, and when the teacher gets a text message and lets the class out five minutes early for lunch, he’s blessing his good luck as he gets up from his desk.

In his haste, he accidentally bumps into Brady (one of the jocks) who he didn’t even see because he was looking at the floor as per usual, and then he hears it.

“Watch where you’re going, fag.”

_Fag._

The single, three letter word causes ice to form in his veins and fear to fill his gut and flood his extremities. He knows his already big blue eyes have widened in surprise, and then Brady says, “I know you like to ram other guys, but come on, Novak. At least buy me dinner first.”

People laugh and he does the only thing he can think to do: he runs.

He runs clumsily, as he always does, tripping over his own feet with tears blurring his vision as he bolts out of the room and down the stairs, taking refuge in the only place in the school he knows those guys would never go: the downstairs bathroom. And there, he cries like the scared little boy he feels like deep down inside, wondering how he’ll ever gather the strength to leave this bathroom stall.

The pop quiz from Crowley carries Dean into his lunch period, and seeing as his locker’s right there as he exits the class, he grabs his lunch and heads towards the cafeteria. The first thing he notices is that Cas isn’t at the table, and the second thing is that Jo and Sam both look like they’re seconds away from either crying or barfing.

“What’s going on? Where’s Cas?” Dean asks.

“Is it true?” Sam asks.

“What?” Dean repeats.

“Is Cas gay?” Sam questions.

Dean keeps his face carefully blank even while his insides twist with fear for Cas. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s the rumor, Dean,” Sam explains. “It was the first thing I heard when I walked in here this morning.”

And now he’s right there with Sam and Jo, feeling like he’s going to puke. And _Cas._ Where’s Cas? “Have any of you seen him since the bell rang?”

“What’s the matter, Deano?” he hears from behind him. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Meg. Her low, sultry voice is distinguishable on its own, and nobody else calls him Deano but her. “Can’t find your boyfriend?”

His temper flares fast and furious once he realizes she started all of this. “Newsflash,” he says, getting to his feet and towering over her small frame. “Just because he dumped your sorry ass doesn’t mean he’s gay.”

Anger flashes in her eyes as the people gathering around them start to laugh. “But an eighteen year old not getting hard with my lips wrapped around his dick kinda does.”

Dean tips his head back and laughs. “Guess practice doesn’t make perfect after all, huh? _Nobody’s_ had more dick in their mouth than you, and you still couldn’t get it up? How embarrassing.”

Heat floods her cheeks as she stalks away in a huff and Dean aims a pointed look at the crowd gathered around, which quickly sends everybody scattering away.

“I gotta go find him,” Dean says to his friends, then takes off towards the downstairs bathroom he knows Cas is more than likely hiding inside.

“Dean!” he hears from behind him, and he turns his head to see Lisa standing there in the hallway with one hand on her hip.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he promises.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me again!” she yells after him, which he ignores in favor of pulling open the door and bolting down the stairs.

Sure enough, once he walks into the bathroom there’s a single stall occupied, and all he has to do is peek under the door to see Cas’s red Converse shoes to know it’s him. “Cas, buddy? Come on out, man.”

“No,” Cas answers, his voice nasally from how he must have been crying.

“If you don’t come out then I’m coming in, and I don’t think both of us squished in one stall is gonna help your cause at all here,” Dean quips, earning himself a long, put upon sigh from Cas before the lock turns and he opens the door.

“So you heard, I’m guessing?”

Dean’s heart breaks for him when he sees how those bright blue eyes of his are rimmed with red and goes for a joke to try to make him laugh. “That I don’t look as hot in this shirt as I thought I did? Yeah, what a let down,” he answers with a smile.

“You still look hot,” Cas says, causing Dean to laugh with surprise. “Which apparently is something I can say now since Meg outed me to the entire school.”

“Works for me,” Dean beams, trying to get another smile out of him. He gets half of one and figures that’s as much as he could’ve hoped for considering the circumstances. “Why are you hiding out in here?”

“Because I’m a laughing stock!”

“Not true. I just told Meg off in front of half the school so I’m pretty sure she’s the laughing stock now.”

“You did?” Cas asks hopefully.

“Yeah. I knew you didn’t want people to know so I told her it’s not your fault she sucks at oral.”

Cas chuckles lightly before he sobers up again. “I can’t believe she told people after she said she wouldn’t. I trusted her.”

“Chicks suck,” he offers. “But listen, it’s only going to look worse if you hide in here. If you want to stick with the not gay thing, you need to come to the caf and let everybody see you laugh at what she said.”

Cas swallows hard. “And if I want to just admit it now that it’s out there?”

Dean shrugs. “I’ll go grab the pride flag from the quad and you can wear it like a cape into the cafeteria with me by your side.”

He gets his first real smile from Cas for that. “Really?”

“Not like you’re the only gay guy in the whole school. Make a statement, that way people can’t use it against you because you own it.” Cas just keeps looking at him. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Cas.”

“Let’s do it,” he decides, and Dean claps him on the back happily.

“This is going to be _epic.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are triggered by explicit Dean/Lisa content, I have marked the beginning and end of the scene with a star so you can skip it if you want to. What happened will still be clear once you keep reading.

And it _was_ epic. Dean even pulled out his phone and filmed it. Cas walking into the school cafeteria with the flag tied proudly around his neck, head held high, bedhead still as adorable as ever, complete with a moderate round of applause started by Charlie and Sam.

Dean heard a whispered _fag_ under his breath and gave the guy who said it a death stare, which had him apologizing hastily and then looking like he wanted to crawl under the table, but by the time they reached their table and Dean convinced Cas to take a bow, things calmed down enough that they could take their seats and have a conversation.

“Lookin’ good, Cas,” Sam says with a bright smile.

“I think rainbow might be your color,” Charlie adds as Cas wedges himself into his seat between her and Dean. Charlie throws her arms around Cas in a hug and Dean can hear her whisper, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Cas says quietly. Then once he clears his throat, settling back into place with his thigh pressed comfortably against Dean’s, he adds, “Thanks for being cool about this,” to the table in general.

There’s an answering chorus of, “Of course!” “We don’t care!” “Doesn’t change anything!”

“How does it feel?” Jess asks him nervously.

“Like I’m about to puke up my Froot Loops,” Cas admits.

“Which would also be rainbow,” Dean jokes, his mouth full with a bite of sandwich.

“Some of us are trying to eat, sicko,” Jo chastises him.

“Novak!” They all spin towards the sound of their principal’s voice. “That flag better be back where it belongs by the end of lunch without a mark on it or you and Winchester are responsible for replacing it.”

“Why me?” Dean questions indignantly.

“You think I don’t know who convinced him to pull a stunt like this?”

He ducks his head in an attempt to hide his smile, and Ms. Harvelle says, “Looks good on you, Castiel,” before she walks back out of the cafeteria.

“Aw, that was so cute,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, for Cas. Your mom’s a hard ass with me,” Dean says to Jo.

She laughs and shrugs unapologetically. “That’s what you get for kissing me at midnight on New Year’s Eve when we were fourteen.”

“Dumbest thing I ever - OW!” he complains as he feels a sharp kick to the shin.

“At least we didn’t get in real trouble,” Cas says over Jo’s laughter.

“Incoming,” Sam says quietly, and knowing exactly what that means and what he’s in for, he crams the rest of his sandwich in his mouth in one overly large bite that has everybody but Cas eyeing him with disgust.

“Dean, we need to talk. _Now.”_ Lisa’s voice is as hard as he’s ever heard it, and considering she isn’t with a gaggle of friends (though they are being watched closely by the peanut gallery) he grabs the apple and cookies left from his lunch and follows her out of the caf.

She leads him down the west wing where he knows there’s not a lot of traffic while he struggles with fitting his apple into his pocket. Lisa stops in the doorway of a locked classroom where two banks of lockers shield them from everybody else. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest and fire in her eyes, so he leans against the wall across from her and lifts his eyebrows in question while he takes a bite of his cookie. She’ll get to it eventually.

“Well?” she demands finally.

“Well what?” he asks, spitting small crumbs into the space between them and then smiling sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you tell me that your best friend is a gay guy?”

Dean shrugs a single shoulder. “He just told me last night and said he didn’t want anybody to know. Then we got here this morning and apparently Meg ran her fucking mouth off without caring about whether Cas wanted to be out or not.”

“How do you think it made me feel to hear from a tenth grader that my boyfriend spent the night with a gay guy?”

Feeling defensive, he snarks, “His name hasn’t technically changed, you know. Cas still works.” She rolls her eyes, and he adds, “You know we’ve been sleeping over at each other’s houses for years. Never had to report in any other time.”

“But it’s different now!”

“Why?”

“Because people are saying you’re cheating on me with him!”

He looks away as the reality sinks in, trying to calm the rise of his temper. “So this isn’t actually about Cas or why I didn’t tell you. You’re pissed because me being best friends with somebody who was just forced into coming out is making _you_ look bad?”

“It’s 2019, it’s not like coming out is hard.” When he laughs bitterly, she adds, “Lots of people are gay. Not everybody has to tell their entire lunch table that their boyfriend isn’t cheating on them with a guy.”

“I’m so sorry this has been such a difficult time _for you,”_ he spits at her. He knew she was self-centered but this is fucking insane, even for her.

“I know this is probably tough on Cas right now, too,” she says quietly. “I’m not a total bitch.”

“You were doing a pretty good impression a second ago,” Dean tells her, which unbelievably makes her laugh.

“You’ve been a really good friend to him, Dean,” she says, sounding serious now.

She takes a step towards him and slides her arms around his neck, making a home for herself between his legs. She leans in, the soft swell of her breasts pressing into his chest, and even though he was ready to throttle her a minute ago, his teenage hormones mean he can already feel himself thickening between his legs now.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, smiling up at him when she can no doubt feel the effect she’s having on him. “Been a long few weeks, huh?” she says coyly. They had sex twice before they started dating exclusively, and not at all since then, so he knows exactly what she’s talking about. “When do you think we can be alone again?” she asks seductively.

Sex hadn’t been everything he thought it would be, but that doesn’t mean it’s not better than his hand. The very idea of giving it another shot, of hearing Lisa sound like she wants it, has his arousal skyrocketing. “Whenever you want. You know my mom’s never home,” he says, tugging her in a little closer to swoop in and catch her lips in a kiss.

*

For once, she isn’t covered in lip gloss, and when he feels her tongue teasing along the seam of his mouth, he opens for her willingly, letting her kiss him for real since they don’t have an audience. She surprises him by grabbing the hand that doesn’t have his last cookie in it and placing it on her chest. He moans into her mouth as he gets a handful of her supple breast, squeezing it gently and swallowing the way her breath hitches. He drops the cookie on the floor in favor of getting his other hand up there, too, and when he pushes his luck and she lets him slide that hand up under her shirt, he almost comes in his pants at the feeling of her bare nipple between his fingers in the school hallway.

She breaks the seal of their lips and peeks down the hallway, then giggles and undoes the top few buttons of her shirt, tossing her long dark hair out of her face and thrusting her chest forwards in invitation.

He kisses down her neck, inching his way towards the dark valley between her breasts, tugging down the lacy cup of her bra to suck her nipple into his mouth, hyper aware they could be caught at any moment.

“God, Dean,” she breathes heavily. “You look so hot today. I wanted you as soon as I saw you.”

His teeth close around her nipple gently before he works his way over to the other one. “You wet for me, Lis?”

“So wet,” she promises, grinding her heat against his now aching erection. “And you’re hard as a rock.”

“‘Cause your tits are amazing,” he says before he buries his face between them, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her pliant flesh and soft skin.

She giggles again, her voice husky this time, and he groans with her nipple in his mouth when he feels her hand work its way between them. Her hand is warm through his jeans when her palm firmly runs from the base of his cock to the tip and back down again.

“I’d suck you off if I didn’t think I’d get caught,” she whispers.

“Please, Lis,” he begs, the mental image of her on her knees in the school hallway making his dick leap against her hand. “Want you so bad.”

Her hand starts working against him in earnest, stroking him over his jeans, rubbing at just the right speed and not too hard so he doesn’t chafe. With her tits in his face, the breathy little moans she keeps letting out, and the forbidden excitement of doing this _at school,_ he can feel himself getting dangerously close to the edge and fast.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says in warning, kissing his way back up to her neck as he tells himself they’re at school and this is so not the place to do this. But then he sees the way her tits are spilling over the cups of her bra, her pale pink nipples damp from his mouth, and he captures her lips in a passionate kiss. He curses his t-shirt between them since it’s the only thing causing him not to feel her skin against his the way he craves, but then his hands land on the tantalizing curve of her ass and he rocks her against him with a groan.

She keeps rubbing, sucking on his tongue, and when she guides his mouth back to her chest with a push to the back of his head he follows like a moth to a flame, licking and sucking at her soft skin while they rock together. “Fuck,” he gasps, chasing his orgasm blindly now and catching her lips for another brutal kiss. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”

Her eyes flash with heat. “I want you to.”

He bangs his head back against the bank of lockers, and when her palm presses against his cockhead again and again with her mouth latched onto the one spot beneath his ear that drives him fucking crazy, she gets her wish. One hand stays locked firmly on her ass and the other one finds her breast now that there’s no sense left in holding back. He squeezes it roughly as his body stiffens, then his hips jerk forwards, rubbing against her as he goes flying head first into his orgasm.

She makes a happy sounding _mmm_ against his skin before she kisses him long and deep, exactly what he needs to help come down gently from his high.

*

“Definitely not gay,” she concludes, pulling back and looking at him with a satisfied smile on her face.

“What?” he gasps, his head buzzing with the blood trying to make its way back there.

“Did you catch the whole show, Cas? Or just the big finish?” she asks.

Dean and Lisa have been gone for about five minutes, and Castiel already has the pride flag folded up on Dean’s empty seat to make sure he doesn’t get it dirty. (He also doesn’t have the guts to wear it without Dean’s encouraging smile aimed at him, but nobody needs to know that but him.) He takes the Dean-free time to eat the peanut butter sandwich he made this morning at Dean’s. His friends keep up a running conversation around him, which he participates in every now and then by nodding or laughing, but mostly he stays quiet without Dean there to draw him into the conversation.

He’s finished his sandwich and his apple when Sam coughs an obviously fake cough under his breath, and knowing that Lisa is already with Dean, he spins to look over his shoulder and sees Lilith standing there. She’s Lisa’s best friend, and though she and Castiel know each other by sight, he’s almost positive they’ve never spoken a single word to each other.

“Cas? Lisa just texted me and she said her and Dean want to talk to you.”

Castiel’s stomach twists with anxiety. Maybe Dean said something to her about how she treated him this morning and he’s going to have to pretend to accept an apology when really, he thinks she’s a spoiled brat who treats Dean like a dog on a leash. “Did she say where they went?”

“Down the west wing,” she tells him.

He slides his leftover cookies to the center of the table and says, “Free to whoever wants them,” and laughs at the commotion that causes as he gets out of his seat.

“We’ll put the flag back,” Sam tells him, and he nods his thanks as he walks away. There are still eyes on him when he walks out of the caf, but this time, he gets the feeling at least half of them are supportive, which is more than he ever hoped for. He takes the first left and starts down the hallway, his mind buzzing with all of the possible conversations he’s about to walk into.

He hears Lisa’s voice over the song playing on the radio about a castle on a hill, sounding breathless when she says, “I want you to.” Then, a second later, what sounds like a bang against a locker and a muffed cry of pain finds his ears, and he actually hastens his step to see what the hell is going on when he gets an eyeful of Dean and Lisa locked together in a passionate kiss.

Hurt lances through him like a sword, stealing his breath and making his eyes water. This is _nothing_ like the kisses he’s seen them exchange in front of Lisa’s locker, and the look of pure pleasure all over Dean’s face is a sight he never thought he’d see - and that says nothing of the sick feeling churning in his stomach from seeing Lisa’s bare breasts, still shiny in places with what has to be Dean’s spit. It’s like a bad accident, there’s literally nothing he wants to stare at less, but he can’t look away from how Dean’s got one hand on her ass and one squeezing her breast as he moans quietly, a sound that he knows will terrorize him for a long time to come.

His heart is so broken, so _shattered_ from seeing the man he fell in love with so lost in the throes of passion with somebody else, he’s sure he’ll never feel it beat again.

But then Lisa pulls away and says, “Definitely not gay,” and he feels it fall into his stomach. Surely Dean hadn’t gone and done whatever just happened with Lisa in order to prove to himself...?

But then Dean asks, “What?” in obvious confusion and some of that worry disappears.

The rest of it evaporates when Lisa turns and looks right at him with a self-satisfied smile on her face and says, “Did you catch the whole show, Cas? Or just the big finish?”

_That_ has Dean’s mind clearing pretty fast. He turns to look away from Lisa for the first time and sees Cas standing there in the hallway looking like he just saw a ghost.

“I - I didn’t mean to,” Cas tells him, very obviously _not_ looking at Lisa’s exposed chest. “Lilith - Lilith told me you two wanted to talk to me and sent me down here.”

Dean rounds on Lisa, pushing her away entirely as everything suddenly makes sense. “Did you fucking _plan this?”_

“What, like you didn’t like it?” she questions, looking pointedly at the mess she knows is in his pants as she fixes her bra and starts buttoning her shirt again. “Now your little gay friend knows he doesn’t have a chance with you. Nobody who comes _that fast_ for a nice rack is interested in dick.”

Ignoring the stickiness in his boxers, he slams his hand into the locker right beside her head. She jumps in fear before she scowls at him, and Dean leans in nice and close, caging her in. “Hope it was good for you, Lis, because that’s the last time I’ll ever lay a hand on you. I’d take my little gay friend over the complete _bitch_ you are any day. We’re fucking done.”

With that, he spins away from her and walks away with as much dignity as a man who just came in his pants can. “Sorry, Cas,” he mumbles as he falls into step next to him, placing a hand reassuringly on his back.

“Don’t be stupid, Dean,” Lisa calls after him, a desperate edge to her voice he’s never heard before. “You break up with me now and everybody’s going to think you’re as gay as he is.”

“What part don’t you get?” he asks, turning back to her as he keeps walking. “I’d rather people think I was gay with him than dating you.”

Bright red spots mark the blush on her cheeks even from the other end of the hall. “You’ll regret this!”

He gives her the middle finger over his shoulder and pulls open the door to the first stairwell he sees, seeking out the downstairs (more private) bathroom for himself now instead of Cas.

“Fucking bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

“I should’ve known something was up when Lilith came over to our table and spoke to me voluntarily,” Cas says bitterly. “I thought maybe you talked to Lisa about being bitchy with me this morning.”

“I would’ve if she didn’t start unbuttoning her shirt,” he explains.

“I don’t get the whole boob thing,” Cas admits, making Dean snort with unexpected laughter. “Once you’ve seen one pair, you’ve seen them all. They’re basically just lumps of fat with a nipple on them.”

“And this is how we know you’re gay and I’m not,” Dean chuckles. “Boobs are awesome. All of them. Every pair, big or small, perky or flabby. Just fucking perfect,” he says dreamily.

“I’ve never been as turned on by anything as you obviously were by her,” Cas says quietly.

Dean doesn’t really know what to say to that so let’s the silence stretch between them until he comes up with something. “Now that you’re out, you’ll find somebody and it’ll be different,” he decides on. As soon as he says it, though, he realizes the idea of Cas bailing on him to hang out with somebody else all over again doesn’t feel great. Cas makes an unconvinced sound, and Dean bounces back to the issue at hand. “I don’t even get what just happened with Lisa. You know I fucked her before, why would she think you needed to see it in action?”

“Reminds me of a dog or something, marking her territory,” Cas says with disgust.

“Was stupid,” Dean comments, banging into the bathroom. “Just gimme a minute. I gotta ditch these boxers or I’m never gonna get the cum out of my pubes.”

Cas snickers and hops up on the counter between sinks while Dean goes to deal with the situation in his boxers. He comes out a few minutes later with them balled up in his hand and tosses them into the garbage can, then starts washing his hands.

“Commando in jeans?” Cas asks, his nose wrinkled up.

Dean meets his eyes in the mirror, giving him an annoyed look. He sees the way Cas presses his pale pink lips together in an effort not to laugh and looks back down at his hands so his lips don’t quirk into an answering smile.

“You don’t have to break up with her because of me,” Cas says next, passing him some paper towel.

“Huh?”

Cas shrugs. “So your girlfriend got you off in the school hallway. I saw more of her than I ever wanted to, and now I know what your _o face_ looks like, but other than that, it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“I look like a dying octopus don’t I?” Dean asks.

Cas bursts out laughing but shakes his head. “It’s probably physically impossible for your features to arrange into something not attractive.” Dean beams at the compliment. “And even though that’s what you chose to focus on, that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I’m saying if you like her, don’t dump her because of what just happened.”

Dean shakes his head. “She said shit about you before that pissed me off, and if she wants to use me like that just to try to hurt you? No thanks.”

“Do you think she’s right about what people will say about us?” Cas asks.

Dean shrugs. “I don’t really care what people say. You and me and Sam and anybody else that matters knows we aren’t bumping uglies in the middle of the night, and that’s all that matters to me.”

To his surprise, Cas launches himself at him. He’s a little overenthusiastic and Dean loses his footing, falling back half a step and into the wall behind them. His arms come around to fall on Cas’s back automatically. Laughing a little at how tight Cas is hugging him, he pats his best friend between his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Cas says quietly. “For everything. For being so cool about this. I never could have done this without you.”

He and Cas have hugged each other dozens of times, so his body feels familiar against his, and he lets Cas hold on for as long as he needs. He closes his eyes as the simple scent of the deodorant Cas uses fills his nostrils, and when Cas buries his nose into the crook of his neck for just a second, he ignores the goosebumps that spread along his skin and squeezes him a little tighter, knowing he must need it. “You’re okay, Cas,” Dean promises. “I got you, buddy. Me and you are like Bill and Ted. Joey and Chandler. Bert and Ernie!”

Cas laughs in his arms and pulls away. “You know they’re gay, right?”

“Who?” Dean asks.

“Bert and Ernie.”

“No shit?”

Cas nods, but before he says anything else, the bell rings.

“Crap, five minutes to grab our books and get to science, and you still haven’t eaten your apple,” Cas says, pointing to where it’s bulging in his pocket.

“Apple won’t be a problem,” Dean replies, taking a huge bite and hustling out of the bathroom. “But we gotta haul ass.”

It’s lunch the next day when Jo brings up prom.

“So I guess the double date with you two and Meg and Lisa isn’t going to happen, huh?” she asks, grinning.

“Fuck no,” Dean answers with a mouthful of pudding.

Finding this is the perfect time to make his announcement, Castiel admits, “I don’t think I’m going.”

Dean rounds on him. “Why not?”

“Who would I go with?” he asks pointedly.

“There’s a few choices,” Charlie says. “Aaron Bass, Victor Hendrickson -”

“I heard Benny swings both ways,” Dean adds.

Castiel shakes his head at the very idea of asking any of those guys to prom. “I doubt any of them would want to go with me.”

“Why the hell not?” Dean asks, sounding offended on his behalf.

“Gee, I don’t know,” Castiel says sarcastically. “Because I’m not popular? I’ve never even held hands with a guy before? I can’t dance? Pick a reason.”

“Hey, if those are the reasons any one of them doesn’t want to go with you then you’re better off without them,” Sam says.

“Exactly, listen to the baby genius,” Dean agrees, nodding at his brother.

Though Castiel shoots Sam a thankful smile, he says, “That still doesn’t help the fact that I have no one to go with.”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going,” Dean declares.

“What? No. Dean, you have to go,” Castiel implores him. Dean is so popular and has so many friends, several people would miss having him there. Besides that, he works _so hard_ andhe deserves to have a nice night with a girl he likes.

“No deal. We’ve done everything together from sixth grade ‘til now, if we don’t both go to prom then we don’t go at all,” Dean says stubbornly.

Castiel sighs dejectedly but decides not to say anything more about it. It isn’t until Saturday night when they’re playing Super Smash Bros on the Nintendo Switch he brought to Dean’s that he mentions it again.

“You know when we were talking about prom?” he asks shyly.

“At lunch yesterday? Yeah, why? Did you find somebody to go with?” Dean asks him.

“No. I just -” He falters, not really sure how to bring this up. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of everybody, but you know how awkward I am at big social events like that,” he confesses quietly.

“You aren’t -”

“Remember at the last football game last season when I fell off of the stupid bleacher? Or when I collided with the school mascot and spilled both of our sodas all over myself in front of the whole school? Or at the assembly when I was called up to the front of the gym for trivia and lost for our team because I didn’t know what ‘bae’ meant?”

Dean laughs. “That’s just proof you’re not a douchebag.”

“Everybody made fun of me for being a loser!”

“Who?” Dean asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Castiel shakes his head at Dean completely missing the point. “You think - you’ve _always_ thought that the way it is when I’m with you is how it is when I’m alone, but it’s not.”

He notices the way Link goes flying off the edge of the screen at the same time Dean turns to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“People don’t like me,” Castiel says quietly, not looking away from the screen for a moment even though he can still feel Dean’s eyes on him.

“That’s bullshit! Jo, Charlie, Sam, Kevin -”

“Yes, fine. I’ll give you that. The people we sit with at lunch are great, and they’ve always been nice to me. But other than them, nobody else is. They either treat me like I don’t exist or say mean things under their breath.”

“Who?” Dean repeats.

Castiel shakes his head again, huffing quietly. He knows he can’t tell Dean the people who have been less than polite to him because Dean will hound them on his behalf, and that’s the last thing he needs. “The point is, none of the people who are gay out will go with me because I’m a loser.”

“Okay, you’re gonna have to stop talking about my best friend like that before I punch you.”

“Dean -”

“No, Cas,” he interrupts. “You’re fucking awesome, okay? You’re sarcastic as hell, stupid smart, unfairly good at video games, unbelievably patient when it comes to tutoring my dumb ass -”

He talks over him to say the same thing he says every time Dean says anything less than complimentary about his intelligence level. “You aren’t _dumb!_ How many times do I have to tell you to get it through your thick skull!”

“- you make a mean omelette, always know the best books to get me to read that I’ll actually like, have like, six zillion facts about Star Wars and the Marvel movies crammed into that noggin of yours, and nobody, literally _nobody_ makes me laugh more than you do.” By the time he’s done his little monologue, Castiel can feel the blush on his cheeks, and he sees Dean’s grin out of the corner off his eye. “Believe me now, or do you want me to keep going?”

“Keep going,” Castiel jokes, and Dean laughs as he bumps his shoulder into him, sending a wave of warmth through his entire body. That’s what lowers his guard enough to say what he needs to say. “I know that for some reason you think those things are true about me,” Castiel says more seriously now, “but outside of you and our small circle of friends, nobody else does.”

It’s a bitter pill for Dean to swallow, thinking that other people don’t know how cool Cas is, but now that he finally knows that, he can fix it. “That’s easy to fix, though. We just gotta make sure people find out. Get you signed up for clubs or something so you can meet new people.”

“Social disaster, remember? I’ll just embarrass myself!”

“I’ll go with you until you feel comfortable, then once everybody sees how awesome you are I’ll stop going,” Dean offers.

“I appreciate the offer, but realistically, we only have a few weeks left of high school anyway. Maybe when we go to college it will be different.”

“I’ll make sure it is,” Dean promises. “And no more of this hiding stuff from me shit. How’m I supposed to watch out for you if you don’t tell me this stuff?”

“It’s not your job to watch out for me,” Cas says gently. “You already have yourself and Sam to look after. I don’t even know how you do everything you do around the house plus work all weekend _and_ go to school.”

“The house stuff sucks sometimes,” Dean admits. “But getting paid to work on cars is a big win for me, and you know Sammy’s the wonder kid. Not like he’s any trouble.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do,” Cas insists.

“Credit doesn’t help for shit. Waste of my time. And don’t think that’s gonna distract me from figuring out how I’m gonna get you to prom,” Dean says, onto his plan.

“That reminds me. I was approached by three different girls yesterday asking me if you had a date now that you and Lisa broke up.”

“Better start spreading the news that I’m not going if you don’t go,” Dean answers.

“That’ll get me more offers than I’ll know what to do with,” Cas grunts.

“Problem solved. You can take your pick of the pack,” Dean smiles, noticing that he doesn’t get a smile back. “Seriously though, why don’t you just pick somebody and go as friends like you were going to with Meg?”

“Like who?”

“Jo?”

“Jo’s going with Mick, how do you not know that?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean chuckles, remembering now how he made fun of the guy’s accent when they all went bowling. “Charlie?”

“Going with a girl from the Rainbow Club. Do you not listen to anything they say at lunch?” Dean shrugs playfully. “I could ask Sam?” Cas ventures.

Dean’s lip curls into a sneer without him even knowing why. “That would be weird.”

This time it’s Cas who laughs. “You’re right, that would be weird. I thought so as soon as I said it.”

“Plus, he’s a junior. We had to wait ‘til grade twelve, he should too.”

“So that eliminates Kevin. Any other ideas?”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have any. “What do you have against Bass? He’s a nice enough guy. Not weird looking or anything.”

“He, uh, actually introduced himself to me after I came out, but he said he’s got a boyfriend from another school,” Cas tells him.

“Okay, well, I’ll think of something. You’re not off the hook yet.”

“Even if we can’t find somebody, you should choose one of your many admirers and go without me,” Cas tries again.

“Not happening. If we don’t go, we’ll do something else together instead. Go get food somewhere and hang out at the arcade or something. Hit all of our favorite spots.”

“You only get one prom, Dean,” Cas says softly.

“Look in a mirror and say that again,” Dean throws back, and it isn’t until he feels Cas’s shoulders shake as he chuckles that he realizes they’re still pressed together from when he shoved him. He scooches over a little and tries to ignore the way his shoulder feels cold without him.

It takes an entire week for the obvious answer to come to him.

Charlie’s telling Jo all about the dress she picked out for prom at lunch, and they’re interrupted by a tap on Dean’s shoulder.

He turns around to see Anna, a sweet girl he shares two of four classes with. “Can I change your mind about prom?” she asks, grinning prettily.

 _“You_ don’t have anyone to go with?” he goggles.

She shrugs, tucking her long red hair behind her ear. “I might’ve been holding out for you.”

“You’re sweet, Anna, but you know I’m not going without Cas.”

“I know a guy,” she says quietly, looking at Cas shyly. “A friend of my brother’s. I can show you a picture if you want, he’s really cute, goes to West Ferris. He’s a year older than us but he’s gay, too, and when he heard about you coming out the way you did and I told him I’m friends with your best friend, he said to offer himself up as a date if you need one. We can double date if you want so it isn’t too weird.”

“Ooooh I wanna see the picture!” Jo butts in. Anna laughs and holds out her phone showing a picture of some smarmy looking blonde guy with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Dean snorts before he can stop himself, then looks apologetically at Cas while Jo says, “He’s hot!”

“What do you think?” he asks Cas.

“It’s not that he’s not attractive, but I just - I don’t feel comfortable going with somebody I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I can see how that’d be weird,” Dean agrees quickly, not liking the looks of this guy who’s the same age as him but somehow looks too mature for Cas anyway. “Sorry, Anna. Sounds like I’m gonna have to say no.” When she looks a little sad about it, he feels bad for her and offers, “But I’d be down to hang out another time if you want?”

She perks up at that and nods. “I’ll send you a Snap, maybe we can see a movie?”

“That’d be awesome,” he agrees.

“See you around,” she smiles. “Bye. Cas,” she adds, walking away.

“She’s pretty,” Sam says once she’s gone.

“She’s really nice, too,” Charlie says. “She’s come to some of the Rainbow Club meetings as an ally. She wouldn’t be a bitch to Cas like Lisa was.”

“You should go with her,” Cas says.

“Nope. If she likes me she’ll be okay with a movie.”

“At this rate you two are going to be the only ones not going,” Jo says, nodding behind them to where Anna is now accepting a hug from some jock on the baseball team.

That’s when it hits him.

“Why don’t we just go together?” he asks Cas.

“What? No,” Cas refuses, his cheeks heating up as he looks away.

“Oh come on! We can make it a big joke. Get those tuxedo t-shirts and spike the punch! It’d be fun!” Dean says again.

“You should get suits like those guys from Dumb and Dumber,” Sam says, laughing. “That’d be awesome.”

Dean’s face lights up as he turns back to Cas. “Come on, how awesome would that be? We’d have fun!”

“Thanks, Dean, but I don’t think so.” Dean opens his mouth to protest again, but Cas shuts him down more with the closed look on his face than his words. “Don’t - don’t make it weird, okay?”

Thinking he’ll just talk him into it later, he lets it go, still smiling at how sure he is that he’ll be able to convince him.

But another week goes by and Cas still turns him down every time he brings it up. He’s _always_ been able to talk Cas into doing stuff he was nervous about. Hell, most of their best memories were made after Cas said no and Dean got him to do it anyway, so why is he being so difficult about this? When Cas is buying him and Sam pizza one day at lunch, he complains to Charlie about it.

“I don’t get it. I know he wants to go, he bought his tux as soon as he and Meg started dating and wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks, so why won’t he go with me?”

“Just a guess? He probably doesn’t want to make it a big joke like you said,” Charlie tells him. “He might think it’s better to miss out entirely than to think the whole thing is for kicks.”

Dean mulls that over, nodding when he realizes she’s probably right. “So, what do I do?”

“I have an idea. Come over after school?”


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel never thought he’d be in a position to turn down Dean for _anything,_ let alone for prom, but that’s exactly what he’s spent the last week doing. When Dean had first suggested it, he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest with excitement. He would have been more than willing to go with Dean as friends; he would have been thrilled! Like Dean has been telling him all week, they always do everything together, so it would have made perfect sense. The very first time Dean had asked him, he had a flash of he and Dean in their suits, dancing like idiots and jumping around on the dance floor, laughing and smiling and having the time of their lives, but then Dean said, “We can make it a big joke,” and his hopes had plummeted.

He knows he’s being ridiculous, but if he’s going to get a night out with Dean like prom - which would be the closest thing to a date he would ever get - he doesn’t want it to be a joke. He doesn’t want to look back at what is supposed to be the biggest night of his teenage life and regret that he never took it seriously.

He does feel torn over it. As cliche as it is, he's been looking forward to prom since Christmas. High school isn’t awesome, but it isn’t all bad, either. He'll miss the school, miss having so many classes and spending so much time with Dean, and he wanted to get all dressed up and give it a big send off.

He never had a reason to buy a tux before, so his dad insisted on getting him one tailored to wear to prom once he started dating Meg and it fits _perfectly._ He’s not embarrassed to admit he’d been trying it on monthly to make sure it still fits right, and every time he does, he’s thrilled all over again by the way it makes him look. He’s not broad shouldered like Dean. His frame is undoubtedly smaller, but in this tux, he somehow looks slim without looking scrawny. The pants hug his thighs, which is definitely where he’s most muscular, and the black shirt under his black suit paired with the cerulean blue tie makes his eyes light up like electricity.  

Sadly, the only place he’s ever going to wear it now is in his bedroom.

After he eats dinner alone Friday night, he texts Dean to see what he feels like doing tonight.

 **DEAN:** sry already have plans  


Seeing as Dean didn’t mention anything to him, he’s curious.

 **CASTIEL:** A date?  
**DEAN:** lol no  


So Friday night is spent watching Netflix, trying and failing not to wonder about what Dean is doing without him and why he doesn’t want him to know what it is. It’s not like Dean owes him any kind of explanation, but considering this is the first time he hasn’t been given one, it rubs him the wrong way.

It’s even worse when the same thing happens Saturday.

 **CAS:** Can I buy Chinese for dinner? Craving egg rolls!  
**DEAN:** Can’t sorry  
**CAS:** Is your mom off tonight?  
**DEAN:** No, have plans  
**CAS:** Well let me know when I can meet your new best friend  


Cas sends it in anger and regrets it immediately, knowing he’s being childish about this. Dean is absolutely entitled to spend time with whoever he wants, and he shouldn’t be giving him a hard time.

 **CAS:** Have fun :)  
**DEAN:** Off at 4 tomorrow. Meet me at my place?  
**CAS:** Sounds good  


After Friday and Saturday night spent at Charlie’s house without Cas, much to Cas’s annoyance, Dean’s ready. It’s the Monday before prom, and it’s now or never. When he and Sam pass by Cas’s house on the way to school that morning, Cas gives him a shy smile and Dean doesn’t miss the way his eyes travel up and down his body. Dean’s dressed in a cream colored button down with different shades of green checkers on it, and paired with his nicest black jeans, he knows he looks a little more put together than he usually does for school.

“You look nice,” Cas comments with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Big day,” Dean says cryptically.

“It’s not school pictures or anything is it? We did that already, right?” Cas checks. “Are there more pictures for graduation?”

“Nope, but don’t worry, you’ll see.”

When they walk into their homeroom, Dean lingers by the teacher’s desk and catches her before she comes all the way in. He feels Cas’s eyes on him like he knew they would be, so he pulls out his phone and lets the teacher read what he wrote there. She gives him a gentle pat on the back and a broad smile and says, “Good luck.”

“What was that all about?” Cas asks as he sits down.

Dean just shrugs and shoots him a playful smile, making Cas scowl like an adorably angry puppy.

When there’s five minutes left of class, Dean leans over and says, “See you in five,” which has Cas gaping at him when he gets out of his seat and struts out of the classroom, hurrying down the hallway to meet Charlie. She’s there and waiting for him with Sam and Jo, and the three of them open the poster and Dean moves them into position so it will be the first thing Cas sees when he comes out of the hallway. He knows there’s going to be other people who see before Cas since there’s three other classrooms down that corridor, but he promised Ellen he wouldn’t block the whole hallway, so he’s further back towards the lockers than he would’ve liked, but it’s still good. It looks _great_ actually, and _shit,_ there’s the bell and he’s suddenly really fucking nervous.

He spins and looks at Charlie, his eyes wide with an influx of nerves. “What if he -”

“He won’t,” Charlie says firmly, reaching up to fix his hair. “Hit him with that million-watt smile that makes all the girls’ panties drop and he’s gonna be eating out of the palm of your hand,” she promises.

“Here he comes,” Sam whispers hoarsely.

Charlie squeezes his bicep with her free hand, her eyes going wide with excitement when she says, “Eeep!”

That makes him laugh nervously as he gets into place on the side of the poster closest to the side of the hallway where Cas is most likely to go based on where he knows his next class is. He sees Cas before Cas sees him. His head’s down, and his shoulders are folded in more than he’s ever seen them. There’s no carefree smile on his face and all of the people who usually say hi to them when they walk by together look right past him like he doesn’t even exist right now.

Is this what Cas meant before about how it’s not the same when he’s without him? Is this how Cas looks when he’s not around? It makes something inside of his chest ache. Cas should _never_ look this unhappy; he doesn’t even look like himself. Cas finally looks up at the same moment Dean realizes he’s drawn a bit of a crowd. There’s probably fifty people gathered around, and as Cas squeezes through them, he glances up to see what everybody’s looking at, and Dean can see the exact moment he starts to read the words.

The grin spreads on Cas’s face before he finds him, and when Dean catches those blue eyes of his across the hallway, his stomach swoops with nerves and excitement when Cas’s grin turns into the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his face. Then Cas is pushing through the crowd towards him, and Dean shoots him the smile Charlie asked him to, completely genuinely, as Cas runs right at him and throws his arms around his neck, laughing breathlessly.

Dean takes his weight easily, finding his laughter infectious, and closes his eyes to absorb just how good it feels to see Cas so happy and have him in his arms. A brand-new and unbelievable warmth spreads through him from head to toe, and when he feels Cas’s breath hot on the side of his neck, goosebumps pop up along his skin.

As the crowd that gathered starts hooting and hollering, Cas pulls away enough to aim an amused look at him. “Hella gay?” he questions.

Dean shrugs, not having to force a smile the way he thought he would when he can almost feel the happiness radiating off of Cas. “Sounded catchy.”

“Sounds like Charlie,” Cas says knowingly, skirting his eyes that way.

Dean grins quick and easy. “What’d you think I was doing this weekend?”

Something sad dulls Cas’s eyes just for a second, but then he shakes his head before gesturing to the sign with a soft expression on his face. “Not this.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me down in front of all these people, are ya?” he teases. Cas looks around at the crowd that’s doubled in size since they hugged. “What d’ya say, Cas? Go to prom with me?”

He’s sure Cas wants it to look like he’s thinking about it, but the way his eyes are dancing gives him away. “Where’s my Ed Sheeran song?”

“Fuck y-”

But that’s all he gets out, because Cas is hugging him again, twice as hard as last time, and he breathes, “Yes, Dean. I’ll be the hella gay to your hella straight at prom.”

And then Charlie yells, “He said yes!” and everybody around them erupts in applause and cat calls. Dean doesn’t even question why holding Cas nice and close makes him feel like he can really breathe again for the first time in a very long time, he just goes with it and thanks his lucky stars he has such an awesome best friend.

“Did you ever end up ordering that tux for Lisa?” Castiel asks Monday night, lying next to Dean in bed after the lights are out.

“No, thank god.”

Knowing Dean spends a large chunk of the money he earns at the garage to help Mary with rent, Castiel says, “Just putting this out there, but I would be perfectly fine with you wearing a nice shirt and dress pants to prom if you want. You don’t need to spend all that money on a tux just for one night.”

“And this is why you’re my best friend and Lisa’s a snob,” Dean says with a soft smile that makes Castiel’s heart flip in his chest. “Charlie helped me find a suit I could rent.”

“You were that sure I’d say yes, huh?” Castiel teases him.

“Charlie was,” Dean tells him. “Plus, it only costs half as much as the one Lisa wanted me to buy and it comes with shoes and a tie and everything. Which reminds me, I gotta tell them what color tie to get. What should I say?”

“Whatever you want,” Castiel answers.

Dean looks at him blankly for a moment, like Dean can’t believe he doesn’t have an opinion. “Well, what color’s yours?”

“Blue. A light blue, kind of like my eyes. They call it cerulean blue. And my shirt and jacket are both black.”

“Kinda badass,” Dean comments, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. Castiel can’t help it when his eyes drop to follow the movement, drinking in the tempting curve of Dean’s full lips. He’s suddenly extremely aware of the way his heart beat picks up, thumping faster and harder as he realizes he’s in bed with Dean and looking at his lips. He forces his eyes away and swallows down the arousal he feels creeping up. Now is not the time for this.

“You know how my dad gets,” Castiel explains.

“Buys your love with the expensive shit to try to make up for never being home, yeah. That mean you got some kinda fancy Italian suit or something?”

“I have no idea,” Castiel says honestly. “All I know is nothing’s ever looked as good on me as that suit. If it is Italian, I’m going to have to move to Italy.”

Dean lets out a soft huff of laughter, expelling a breath of air onto his face that smells like toothpaste. “I uh, wanted to apologize for before, y’know,” Dean says, sounding a little nervous. Castiel frowns, unsure what he’s going to apologize for. “I shouldn’t have made it seem like going to prom with you would’ve been a big joke. You know you’re my best friend and I don’t think of you as a joke or whatever. I was just trying to say what I thought would make you want to go with me.”

“I know you didn’t mean any harm,” Castiel says, surprised by Dean apologizing for that.

“But still, I’m gonna make it up to you. We only get one prom, you know? I did the fancy promposal thing already -”

“Much to Lisa’s irritation, I’m sure,” Castiel says pettily.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, smiling smugly. “But I wanna do everything else right, too. I talked to mom and she’s leaving the car here for me so I can come pick you up like it's the real deal, and we’re gonna dance, and drink the spiked punch, and have our pictures taken on the way in together, and all that shit.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Castiel says breathlessly, overwhelmed by the mere possibility of getting to share all of that with Dean.

“I want to. It’s _prom,_ and you deserve to have the whole experience even though you’re slumming it with me,” Dean says, his eyes glittering with amusement.

“You know it’s the other way around.”

“Hm?”

 _“You’re_ slumming it with _me,”_ Castiel corrects.

“How about we're slumming it together,” Dean offers, and Castiel nods though he knows what he said is closer to the truth than Dean’s compromise. “You okay with all that? If I treat you like a real date?”

Castiel swallows hard for a second time. “But we’re still just going as friends, right?” he clarifies.

Dean laughs a little, not unkindly. “I’m still straight, yeah. But if it’s weird for you because you’re not -”

“If anything, I would think that would apply for you more than me.”

“Meaning?”

Castiel shrugs a single shoulder, choosing to look down at the way Dean’s hands are clasped in front of his chest instead of at his face. “I’m gay and you’re an attractive guy who’s going to look even hotter in a suit. Why would I have any problems with you treating me to my first guy/guy date-like experience?”

“That’s a good point,” Dean says, laughing a little. “And just you wait. I’m gonna fake date you so good no other guy will ever live up to it.”

Castiel’s mouth turns up into a smile, too, but when his eyes flick back up to find the green of Dean’s trained on _his lips,_ his heart stutters so hard in his chest he can’t find any words for several long moments. Feeling self conscious about how his lips are always a little dry, he licks them, and only then does Dean’s gaze lift to catch his. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but he’s pretty sure those freckled cheeks are burning with a blush, too.

“Selfish of you,” Castiel finally says. “Wanting to be my best friend and my best date. Not really giving anybody else a chance.”

Dean grins wolfishly, revealing the white line of straight teeth that’s much too enticing for his teenage body to ignore. “Good, then you won’t ditch me for Meg’s replacement and I can have you all to myself this summer just the way I like it.”

Warmth rushes through him from the combination of his words and the playful way Dean is looking at him. Good God, is Dean _flirting_ with him? It _feels_ like flirting and he can barely keep his breathing even.

“You ditched me for Charlie,” he teases, though his voice is a little shaky.

“To work on something for you!” Dean reminds him.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he says quietly, feeling his cheeks warm up at the memory and barely resisting moving closer to Dean the way his body’s begging him to.

“Thought it was about time something good happened for you.”

“It was the happiest moment of my life,” he admits.

“‘Til Friday,” Dean promises with a wink that causes blood to pool between his legs so quickly he’s forced to roll over so his semi doesn’t accidentally brush against Dean.

“We’ll see if you’re as smooth as you think you are,” Castiel says, the joke coming to him more easily now that he isn’t actually looking at him.

The bed shifts behind him as Dean scoots closer, and he can feel Dean’s breath on the back of his neck when he says, “I’m gonna knock your socks off.”

He fights back a full body shiver and tries to think of anything except for how deep Dean’s voice sounds in the dark with his breath on his skin and his body radiating warmth from behind him.

“Goodnight, Dean,” he says finally.

“Night, buddy.”

Castiel’s head is still spinning a few minutes later when Dean shuffles even closer and wraps his arm around his middle, pulling Castiel back against him and curling his body around his from behind. There’s _no way_ Dean’s sleeping already. Dean proves that when he repositions his face a few times until he finds a comfortable spot between Castiel’s shoulder blades, and he can feel it when Dean’s body goes lax as he drifts off a few minutes later.

Castiel, on the other hand, lies there for way too long trying to remind himself that just because Dean is consciously and voluntarily spooning his gay best friend doesn’t mean anything more than he likes to cuddle.

He’s still half-hard and not entirely convinced when he falls asleep a long time later.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Dean grumbles something unintelligible and snuggles in closer to the warmth he has himself wrapped around. He winds his arm tighter around Cas’s waist and pulls him back against him, applying pressure to keep him nice and close to his body. Cas smells familiar, and his toned back is just soft enough to be comfortable for his face to rest on, and he makes a happy little sound in his throat before he starts to fall back asleep.

_Knock, knock, knock._

“Dean?” Cas says, his voice all grumbly with sleep.

Dean pries his eyelids open, and at that same moment, he hears his bedroom door open and Sam’s annoyed sounding voice says, _“Dean,_ it’s time to - Oh. _Oh,_ uh, sorry.”

Realizing he’s wrapped himself around Cas like a cobra, he rolls over to look at his brother, and in the process, the hand wound around Cas’s waist bumps against something hard that he’s pretty damn sure he was never supposed to touch.

Cas jerks away from Dean like he accidentally burned him and rolls onto his stomach with a strangled sound that makes Dean blush harder than he already was.

He finally gets a look at his brother and sees his facial expression go from shock to embarrassment to a smug smile he immediately wants to punch off of his stupid face.

“What?” Dean barks at him.

“Your alarm’s been going off for fifteen minutes,” Sam says, still smirking. “Guess you were too busy cuddling to hear it.”

Not wanting to make this situation any worse than it already is, he says, “Thanks, Sammy. Want the first shower, Cas?”

“N-no,” Cas stutters. “I, uh - no. You go ahead.”

Considering he’s all too aware of the situation Cas has going on, he hears what he’s not saying and throws the blankets off of himself and swings his feet over the side of the bed. It isn’t until he stands up that he realizes his own dick is hanging a little heavier than it should be between his legs, but morning wood isn’t exactly anything new, so he takes off towards the shower.

Once he’s showered and awake, he and Cas trade places, and he’s just pulling his jeans up over his boxers when Sam walks in looking nervous, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up, Sammy?”

“Are you and Cas dating?” he asks.

“What?” Dean balks, laughing with a mixture of shock and embarrassment. “No!”

Sam gives him a disbelieving look and says, “You know me and mom and all of our friends wouldn’t care if you were bisexual, right?”

Dean looks at his brother like he’s got three heads. “Thanks for the after-school special, but I’m not into guys.”

Sam’s lips press together into a thin line, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”

“Pretty fucking sure,” Dean says on another laugh. “If this is about what you walked in on this morning, me and Cas have always woken up like that when we share a bed. It’s not anything new.”

He flushes even as he says it though, and turns his back to dig through his dresser to find a t-shirt. Sam has no idea that he snuggled up to Cas before they fell asleep, and he plans to keep it that way. He doesn’t even know what he was thinking. It was just... the way Cas was looking at him with those stupidly blue eyes flashing back and forth between affectionate and almost liquid hot just made him feel all warm and fuzzy, and, well... nobody but Cas had ever looked at him like that, and he just wanted to be a little closer to him. He knew Cas wouldn’t mind so he just went for it, and he fell asleep with a sappy smile on his face feeling more right than he ever has in his life.

“You and me don't wake up like that whenever we share a bed,” Sam says.

And yeah, that’s true, but who cares? “Me and Cas are close. So what?” he says, his voice hard.

“Don’t get all defensive, I’m just - I always thought there was something different about you and Cas, and now that Cas is out, I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Dean turns back to face him for that. “I’d never hurt him. He’s my best friend.”

“I know you wouldn’t do it intentionally, but you’ve never seen his face when he had to look at you and Lisa kissing. It looked like somebody kicked his gerbil, every single time.” Dean swallows hard at the things Sam’s almost but not quite saying, but Sam just powers on. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am, Dean. I’m pretty sure Cas likes you, and more than just best friends.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Dean says stubbornly, pulling his shirt over his head and trying to ignore that he’s had the same thought a time or two in the last few weeks since Cas came out. He tried not to think about it because he didn’t want to make it weird, but now Sam’s putting words to the thoughts he’s been trying to bury and he doesn’t know how to react except for denying it altogether.

“And don’t freak out, but I think you might like him too,” Sam says gently.

“I’m not gay!” Dean exclaims.

“But you have to know what you and Cas do is more than just normal friend stuff.” When he just stares at his brother blankly, Sam laughs humorlessly and explains, “The way you guys walk with your shoulders touching, always squeezing yourselves into a space made for one person at the lunch table at school even though there’s lots of room, how you look at each other. I have best friends who are guys, too, and we’ve never been like you guys are. We don’t even share a bed, and now you tell me you cuddle in your sleep, knowing that Cas is attracted to guys? That’s not - that’s not _normal.”_

“So what, I’m supposed to stop having sleepovers with him now just because I know he’s gay?" Dean asks, latching onto the one thing he can defend out of everything Sam just said. "I’m not an asshole, Sam."

“It has nothing to do with being an asshole. Just think about it - if you were dating Lisa and Cas was a girl, would you think it was okay to share a bed then? Waking up all wrapped together like that?” Dean doesn’t say anything, already knowing what the answer is. Of course he wouldn’t share a bed with another girl if he was dating Lisa. “I can’t tell you how you feel. Just - just be careful, okay?” Sam says softly. “With prom and everything... Cas is one of my best friends, too, and I don’t want to see him take this the wrong way if you really only want to be friends.”

“We already talked about prom, it’s fine,” Dean tells him, grabbing his deodorant and applying it liberally.

Sam nods and turns to open the door like he’s going to walk away, but he stops halfway through and turns back. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best version of yourself when you’re with him. If you’re attracted to guys at all, or even just to Cas, I think he could make you really happy. You could do a lot worse.”

Then Sam leaves for real, and Dean’s left standing in his bedroom feeling jittery and uncomfortable in ways he doesn’t even understand. There’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he’s attracted to women, but if he’s going to be honest with himself, he’s always felt a pull towards Cas that’s unlike anything else and that’s why he’s never been worried about keeping the “socially acceptable” space between them. He feels better when he’s closer to Cas, more steady, more _right._ He thought that was best friends stuff, that it was normal for friends to steady each other like that, but if what Sam is saying is true and he isn’t like that with any of his friends, what does that say about him and Cas?

Though he thinks about it a lot, he doesn’t mention any of this to Cas, which he’s pretty sure is the first secret he’s ever really kept from him (excluding the sign thing, which doesn’t count as far as he’s concerned). He does watch Sam and Kevin when they’re at lunch that day and the day after, though. They don’t sit as close as he and Cas do, and they don’t seem to have the same silent way of sharing their thoughts using only the expressions on their faces like him and Cas either. Wondering if it’s just something Sam doesn’t do with his buddies, he scopes out other guys in the hallway on Tuesday, like the football team who travels in one big pack most of the time. None of their shoulders are brushing when they walk and they’re big dudes, and they don’t even do the little pats on the back or arm touches the way he and Cas do.

How did he never notice that before?

“What do you keep looking for?” Cas asks him, searching the crowd for what’s got him so distracted.

Dean shakes his head and looks away from everybody else, grabbing the book from his locker like he was supposed to be doing. “You ever notice that we walk closer together than anybody else?”

Cas tilts his head to the side. “No?”

“Look at the football team,” he says, nodding to them with his head. “Our shoulders are almost always touching when we walk and all of those guys are like a foot apart. So are Kevin and Sam,” he says, pointing them out next as they walk away and towards their lockers.

“You’re probably just automatically trying to hold me up to make sure I don’t trip over my own two feet,” Cas says, but his cheeks are pink now when they weren’t before Dean brought this up. Dean chuckles, wanting to make it feel normal between them again, but as he closes his locker, he wonders if Cas really believes that. “I honestly never noticed until you pointed it out. If somebody said something to you or it makes you uncomfortable - like you’re afraid people are getting the wrong idea about us or whatever - we can try not to,” Cas offers as they begin walking.

They fall into step beside one another naturally, and when Cas deliberately takes a step to the side so they aren’t touching, Dean feels his absence like a missing limb. “No,” he answers instantly, moving right back into his space where he feels like he belongs. “I like bein’ close to you.”

He notices how Cas looks straight down at his feet with a shy smile on his face for the remainder of their walk to class, and he wonders if that was too much. If maybe he shouldn’t have said that. And why does it embarrass him so much to say it out loud now when it’s something he’s thought a million times before without even giving it a second thought?

They’re all the way inside and sitting down in their seats when he thinks he hears Cas whisper, “Me too.”

Looking over at him to make sure he heard what he thought he heard, he sees Cas’s blue eyes full of nerves and that warm look he only ever aims in his direction, and Dean smiles one of his most winning smiles to put him at ease before he can even stop long enough to reflect on how that’s the same smile he always used to flirt with Lisa.

Only after he realizes that (and after they’ve been holding eye contact for a good ten seconds) does he tear his eyes away, and he curses his little brother for putting all of these confusing thoughts in his head and making doubt poke at the back of his brain when everything was just fucking fine the way it was this time last week.

It’s Wednesday, only two days before prom, when Charlie meets Castiel outside his first period class and says she’s here to walk him to math. Dean looks a little crestfallen, but Castiel gives him an encouraging smile and says, “Save me a seat at lunch, okay?” as if there was any question about that.

“Yeah, okay. Later, Cas. See ya, Charlie.”

After Dean walks away looking lonely and unsure, Charlie says, “Kinda adorable how he looks like somebody just ate his last slice of pie just because you aren’t going to walk down one hallway with him, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Castiel says carefully, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze she’s giving him.

“Is something going on between you two?”

“What?” he chokes out. “No! Dean’s straight!”

“Is he though?” Charlie asks, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“You know as well as I do that’s up to him to decide. He’s never said anything different to me. Has he -?” But then he stops. That’s none of his business.

“No,” Charlie answers anyway. “But you’ve gotta see the way he’s been looking at you lately.”

“We’re just best friends,” he says, though he can’t deny the way excitement is thrumming through his veins after hearing somebody else point out the soft looks he’s been getting from Dean.

“But if he decided he wanted to try being more, you’d be down for that, right?” Castiel looks away again, and she laughs, but he can tell she’s not laughing _at_ him. “Anybody who has eyes can see how much you like him. Except for maybe Dean.”

“Honestly, I try not to spend too much time thinking about the impossible,” he admits. “Dean’s straight and anything I feel for him other than friendship is only going to lead to me getting my heart broken.”

“Cas, come on, it’s me,” she says, stopping and laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I want to talk to Dean about this, but I have to know you’re not going to shoot him down if he musters up the courage to come clean about his not-so-hetero urges.”

“I don’t want anybody to pressure him. If he thinks I had anything to do with it and it ruins our friendship...” He stops as his eyes fill with tears at the very idea. “I’d rather keep him as a friend than lose him over this or anything else.”

“I know that. _He_ knows that.” Castiel exhales heavily as some of his fear ebbs. “Just give me a nod, Cas. One nod so I know I’m not leading him down a one-way street.”

He feels his heart leap into his throat, his stomach twist into a million little knots, and a cold sweat pop up on his forehead all at once. He looks at Charlie, her green eyes gentle and caring, and feels himself balanced on the precipice of a life-changing moment. Does he do the smart thing, the safe thing, and shake his head, continuing to deny the feelings he has for Dean in order to protect their friendship? Or does he do the one thing he’s tried not to think about doing for the last four years and risk losing the best friend he’s ever had for a chance at more?

His head turns to the side, the thought of losing Dean enough to send fear racing through him from head to toe _and_ make his head shake in response... but then he remembers Dean wrapping himself around him Monday night... he remembers how he felt when he thought Dean might be flirting with him when they were in bed... he remembers how timid Dean’s voice was when he said, “I like bein’ close to you,” and Castiel gives Charlie the nod she asked him for before he’s even made the conscious decision to do it.

Charlie pushes up to her tiptoes, wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him nice and tight. She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, which makes him blush, and says, “I promise I won’t ruin this for you,” before she ducks out of his arms and leaves him standing there feeling like he might vomit right there in the hallway.

Charlie catches up with Dean between classes on Thursday afternoon.

“My turn for an escort?” he asks her.

She grins. “You know it, Winchester.”

“How’d I rate second, anyway?”

“Saved the best for last,” she says with a teasing smile. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Yep. Going to pick up my tux and the boutonniere tomorrow after school since I’ll have the Impala, and that’s really all I needed to do,” Dean answers.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting him flowers,” she says excitedly. “That’s so cute!”

“I told him the other night that I want to do whatever I can to give him the whole prom experience. So we’re doing it all. I’m gonna drive the two minutes down the street to pick him up in the Impala, we’re gonna do pictures on our way in, and I’ve got my dancing shoes all ready to go,” he says with a sideways grin.

“Don’t forget to kiss him goodnight when you drop him off,” Charlie says, and he somehow manages to choke on his own spit when he knows he should be laughing. “What? You said the whole experience, right? You’re not gonna let your BFF go to bed after prom without a goodnight lip lock, are you?”

“I think kissing goes a little above and beyond the call of a BFF,” Dean says with an embarrassed huff of laughter.

“And the flowers and everything else doesn’t?” Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just looks away. “You could always just give it a shot and see if you like it.”

“What the hell Charlie?” he exclaims, shocked and confused by her saying all of this now that he gets the feeling she isn’t actually joking.

“Shhh,” she says, looking around to make sure nobody’s listening. “Listen. You go slack-jawed anytime Patrick Swayze is on TV, you think the cowboy boots Dr. Sexy wears is what makes him sexy, you have a big fat cartoon crush on Fred from Scooby-Doo, and a little birdie told me you and Cas do some hardcore cuddling when you share a bed.”

Dean clenches his jaw together, breathing one quick breath through his nose before he says, “I’m gonna _kill_ Sam.”

“I’m just saying, you already told Cas you’re gonna do the whole prom thing to a tee, right? So why not try thinking of it as an actual date and try to get a feel for it? You wouldn’t even have to tell him anything’s changed.”

Dean shakes his head even as his heart starts beating too fast and too hard. “I like girls, Charlie. You’d think you of all people would get that.”

“Oh, I get it,” she says with a grin. “But thanks to the Rainbow Club, I also get that you can like girls _and_ guys, or even all girls and _just_ Cas and Dr. Sexy.” He flushes and looks away because he can’t even deny the Dr. Sexy thing. The doctor get up plus cowboy boots _is_ sexy and everybody knows it. “All I’m saying is you could give it a shot. My gaydar hasn’t been wrong yet, and you and Cas would be hella cute together. Plus,” she lowers her voice, completely ignoring the dirty look he’s giving her, and adds, “just think how hot it would be to kiss Cas knowing you’d be the first one to really get his motor running. Bet you could rock his world,” she says with an impish smile. Then she spins on her heels and walks away with her red curls bouncing, leaving Dean with a way too vivid mental picture of Cas’s blue eyes looking up at him, dark and liquid hot with _want,_ and those pale pink lips of his kissing him back, hungry with lust for the first time in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ENTIRE FIC came to life because of a post I saw on Tumblr... which I can no longer find... but here's the [Tweet from the original source](https://twitter.com/AnthonymNV/status/590582895607164929) of the promposal that inspired the whole thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s never been more glad to have the house to himself in his damn life as he is right now, and that’s including the few times he’s had girls over when his mom wasn’t home.

Tonight is prom night, and he’s sorta freaking out. Everything Sam and Charlie have said over the last week has kept him up late at night and made him look at what was supposed to be a fun night out with his best friend in a whole different way, and now he’s really fucking nervous.

Is he going to treat tonight like a date with Cas? Does he _want_ to date Cas? When he thinks about making him smile or holding his hand, about sweeping him off of his feet and treating him the way he deserves to be treated, there’s no denying he gets a pleasant fluttering sensation in his stomach and a goofy smile on his face. He wants that for Cas, too, wants to be the one to make Cas feel as light and giddy as he feels. And ever since Charlie planted the idea of kissing Cas stupid, he hasn’t been able to keep that thought out of his head, either. So he’s pretty sure he wants that, too, even if admitting it to himself makes him feel like he’s gonna barf up the Pizza Pockets he had for dinner. He can’t go further than kissing in his head without feeling squicked out, though, so he doesn’t know what that means when it comes to maybe kinda sorta being bi. Bicurious? Cas-Curious? Something else?

Maybe he’ll figure it out tonight.

He’s showered and shaved, used the fancy aftershave he got for Christmas four years ago for the second time ever, took way longer to do his hair than was necessary, and after carefully buttoning the cuffs of his white shirt, he slips on his black suit jacket and does up the button. The cerulean blue bow tie and pocket square completes the outfit, and though he’s always tried not to get too cocky over what he’s repeatedly been told is a pretty face, he has to admit he looks damn good tonight.

He steps into his dress shoes, gives himself one final head-to-toe check in the full-length mirror in his mom’s bedroom, and goes to grab Cas’s boutonniere from the fridge. It’s nothing special, just a white rose with some baby’s breath spray painted a light blue, but he’s pretty sure Cas is still going to like it. After glancing over at the clock on the stove, he sees he’s got five minutes to get to Cas’s place, and though it’s only about a one minute drive, he doesn’t want to be late. So he grabs his keys and his wallet and climbs into the front seat.

The scent of well-worn leather is calming, and by the time he’s adjusted the mirrors and taken a few deep breaths, he’s ready to go. Pulling into Cas’s driveway only a minute later feels kinda dumb, and he wonders if he’s ever driven over here before but comes up blank. He’s got time for one more deep breath before he grabs the little plastic container with the boutonniere inside and goes to knock on Cas’s door with his heart pounding in his chest and the container held behind his back.

It’s only a few seconds before the door opens and Cas is standing there in front of him wearing a friendly smile that fades into something different as his eyes sweep up and down Dean’s body. Dean takes the chance to do the same to Cas, noticing without even trying how ripped his best friend looks all of the sudden. Were his shoulders always that wide? And what the hell is with the way his thighs look so thick they’re damn near straining the material just standing there? And why is that so hot now when he never even noticed before?

“You look great, Dean. I’ve never seen you so dressed up,” Cas finally says, pulling Dean’s eyes back to Cas’s face. And _holy shit_ that’s not much better because Cas has done something to make his usual bedhead look finger fucked and Dean’s mind takes a nose dive directly into the gutter.

“You weren’t kidding about the suit,” he manages to say. “You look ripped. Have you been working out or something?”

“Is that a line?” Cas teases.

Put on the spot, he manages to make an ass of himself right off the bat when all he can manage is a strangled sounding, “Uh,” before Cas is stepping back so Dean can come into his house.

Cas chuckles lightly and says, “No, I haven’t been working out. It’s just the suit,” he says, smiling his usual smile at him again. “Which reminds me, when I die, make sure they bury me in this.”

Dean snorts with laughter, feeling most of his nerves dissolve into nothing with the familiarity of Cas’s dry humor.

“I’ll even make sure this goes with it,” he says, pulling the box out from behind his back.

Cas’s facial expression _melts._ He looks at Dean with those blue eyes of his, basically glowing because of the tie, round with surprise but so incredibly soft Dean feels that same swooping sensation in his gut as he did when Cas saw his promposal.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Cas says, his cheeks turning an endearing shade of pink.

“Sure I did, all part of sweeping you off your feet,” Dean says with a grin that he hopes looks a lot more confident than he’s feeling. He pops open the container and says, “I had to get the chick at the flower place to show me how to pin it on and it was awkward as hell, so bear with me for a second while I figure this out.”

He takes the boutonniere out and hands the box to Cas, then takes a few steps forward so he’s right in Cas’s space. He slides one hand beneath the lapel of his suit jacket to make sure he doesn’t poke him in the chest with the pin, and tries to ignore how he can feel Cas’s gaze on his face. He places the flower against the lapel of his jacket, and pokes the pin through the jacket and the head of the flower from behind like the lady told him to, then pokes it back through the fabric and puts the little stopper on the end so Cas doesn’t get jabbed.

Feeling confident with how well that went, he lets his hands fall away into a bow-like flourish, and instantly, the head of the flower flops and pulls Cas’s lapel with it.

“Well shit,” Dean curses, making Cas laugh.

“Maybe you have to go through the jacket _and_ the lapel?” Cas suggests, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Shoulda made you wear the damn corsage,” he mumbles under his breath, undoing the pin and starting over again with his face burning.

He swallows hard when he feels Cas’s hand cup his elbow, and he looks up to meet his eyes. “You’re doing fine,” Cas says kindly. “We both know I would’ve needed a bandage by now if this was the other way around.” Because it’s true, that makes him laugh and puts him at ease enough to get the boutonniere on securely.

“There!” he says proudly, stepping back to survey his job. “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but that looks pretty damn awesome with the tie and everything.”

Cas takes a few steps to check it out in the mirror beside the stairs and nods his agreement with a small smile on his lips. “Second time’s the charm, apparently. And thank you again, Dean. Nobody’s ever bought me flowers before, and I truly didn’t expect this. I kind of feel bad for not thinking to get you one,” he says quietly.

“Nah, I got the pocket square. Flowers woulda been too much, anyway. Besides, I’m spoiling you, not the other way around,” Dean answers. “Do you need anything else before we go or are you ready to take off?”

“I’m ready when you’re ready,” Cas says.

Dean nods and walks back out to the car, remembering at the last second to scoot around to Cas’s side to open his door for him. He exaggerates the action so much that it makes Cas’s nose scrunch up with his smile, and that’s officially the second time his stomach has swooped like this. Not that he’s counting.

“Really pulling out all the stops, huh?” Cas asks once Dean settles in behind the wheel.

“I’m just getting started,” Dean says with a flirtatious grin, mentally shaking his head at himself as he looks in the rearview mirror. Since when is he actually _unable_ to stop flirting with Cas? They’ve barely even made it out the damn door and he’s already coming on to him.

Why does Cas have to look so good in that suit?

What if Sam and Charlie are right?

He swallows hard and concentrates on driving, not letting his mind wander anywhere else except for the road.

“Did Sam have any snarky comments about you getting ready tonight?” Cas asks, breaking the easy silence they were sitting in.

“I was actually on my own, same as you. Sam’s staying over at Kevin’s since I didn’t know when I’d be home and Mom’s crashing with Jody so I could have the car.”

“We could have walked,” Cas says. “We do it every day.”

“I know, but she was on board when I told her who I was going with.”

“Probably just happy knowing you won’t be knocking anybody up on prom night,” Cas quips. Dean lets out a bark of laughter and relaxes further in his seat. “You seem a little nervous. Are you worried about people saying stuff about us going together?” Cas asks next.

Dean scoffs. “No, not even a little bit.”

“But you _are_ nervous?”

Dean shrugs. “Feels different doing this stuff with you instead of a girl,” he tries to explain.

“We go out together all the time. This time we’re just wearing suits.”

Trying to make a joke, he says, “Yeah, but you don’t usually look this good.” His voice comes out all wrong though, no hint of a joke anywhere, and he can feel his face heat up with his blush. “What did you do to your hair, anyway?”

“Oh,” Cas says, looking down at his lap. “I just used more product than usual. Does it look stupid? I know it’s messy -”

“It looks good, Cas. Like, really good,” he says honestly, fighting to keep his eyes on the road. “You’ll probably be beating people away with a stick all night.”

“Lucky for me I’ve got you to defend my honor, then,” Cas says, picking his head up and sounding more like himself.

Dean nods, and forces himself to say, “Don’t feel like you can’t dance with other people if you want to, though. I just want you to have a good time.”

“D-do you plan on dancing with other people?” Cas asks, sounding worried.

“Nah, I came with the only person I’m willing to make an ass out of myself with,” Dean says with a huff of laughter.

“You were going to dance with Lisa,” Cas points out.

“Oh no I wasn’t,” Dean says, laughing harder. “I was going to go with her and stand against the wall like most of the other guys.”

“But you’ll dance with me?”

“Yeah,” Dean says with an air of nonchalance he doesn’t actually feel. “It’s different because if you laugh at me I can punch you.”

Cas’s low laugh rolls through him like a warm drink. “Well you certainly know how to put butterflies in my stomach.”

Dean pulls into the school parking lot with a smile on his face, centering the Impala in a spot expertly. “Sorry it’s gonna be a bit of a walk, but if anybody dings her -”

“You’ll collapse into a heap of very manly tears, I know,” Cas says with a shit-eating grin on his face, opening his door and getting out of the car.

“You’re lucky we’re on a date, or I’d be telling you to go fuck yourself,” Dean says, matching Cas’s grin as he reaches his side and giving into the urge to place his hand on his lower back as they walk. Even though he knows Cas doesn’t know the difference, doing it purposely instead of just accidentally feels monumental. He chose to touch Cas, knowing he wasn’t doing it just to be friendly, but because he wants to be closer to him. Just like the cuddling the other night.

By the time they reach the front doors of the school, he feels confident with his decision and keeps his hand there even after they walk through them into the hallway. The head of the prom committee is sitting at a table right when they walk in, with Jo’s mom sitting next to her.

“No pride flag tonight, Castiel?” Ms. Harvelle asks, the joke visible in her eyes.

“Knew I forgot something,” Cas says.

“I can always go grab it from the quad,” Dean adds, which makes Ms. Harvelle shake her head at them.

“I can’t wait until you two are somebody else’s problem next year,” she says, taking the tickets Dean hands to her.

“Come on, Ellen, you know you’ll miss us,” Dean says with a wink.

“It’s still Ms. Harvelle until next week, Winchester,” she replies. “Save your flirting for your new boyfriend.” Before either he or Cas can say anything, she adds, “But keep it clean or I’ll tell your momma myself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says automatically, and he and Cas are both red-faced but snickering as they walk away.

“I was going to say something to correct her assumption but I was caught off guard and I couldn’t get words out fast enough,” Cas tells him as soon as they’re out of earshot.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s not the first time that’s gonna happen tonight.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Cas asks.

Dean shrugs, remembering what Sam said. “I could do a lot worse.”

Castiel isn’t sure how he’s supposed to feel about the version of Dean he’s with tonight. He goes back and forth between feeling like this is like any other day and he and his best friend are just screwing around as usual, and going breathless over another borderline flirtatious comment from Dean. He doesn’t know if this is just Dean trying to be the best date he ever had like he said he was going to, or if maybe Charlie talked to Dean and he’s reacting to what she said by testing the waters or something.

He does know Dean’s hand on the small of his back is somehow burning through two layers of fabric, and the non-existent space between them when they wait in the line for photos is making him warm all over. Whatever product Dean applied - aftershave or cologne or something - smells spicy and masculine and it’s causing heat to simmer dangerously low in his groin every time Dean comes close enough to catch a whiff of it.

“We get three poses,” Dean tells him, leaning in so he can be heard over the rambunctious crowd in front of them and unintentionally causing that spicy scent to waft right into his nostrils. “Any ideas?”

“Charlie’s Angels?” Castiel suggests, tongue in cheek.

“The Force,” Dean counters, holding his hand up like he’s pushing something invisible away from him.

“Duck faces.”

“Peace signs,” Dean laughs.

By the time it’s their turn, they’ve come up with about twenty different ideas, none of which are actually helpful.

The photographer is a short little guy with blonde hair, who grins like the Cheshire Cat when he sees them standing next to each other in front of the backdrop.

“Finally, non-straight people. Teenagers I can relate to!” the guy says excitedly. “Pose number one?”

“Uh -” Dean stammers.

“On three. One, two...”

“Finger guns,” Dean says suddenly.

Castiel frowns, but when the photographer says, “Three!” and Dean aims a set of finger guns to him with his mouth hanging open in an exaggerated smile, Castiel laughs and copies him.

“Awesome,” the photographer laughs. “Pose number two?” When they stare blankly, the guy says, “Just put an arm around each other and make eye contact.”

Dean shrugs and gets into position, sliding a hand along Castiel’s lower back and resting it on his hip like it belongs there. Castiel is in a daze when he slings his arm around Dean’s shoulder and rests his hand on the muscle there, and he looks at Dean as requested, immediately getting lost in the depths of his green eyes. The years of knowing each other so well does nothing to take away from how unfairly attractive Dean is. If anything, knowing what a good man he is only makes it worse, so staring right into his handsome face is akin to looking directly at the sun and should only be done in tiny doses, not the handful of seconds he’s subjected to right now.

“Gimme one of those adorable gummy smiles, Cas,” Dean encourages him, and while he _does_ smile, it must not be what Dean wants.

He hears the photographer say, “Two, thr-” and Dean gives Castiel a lewd wink and puckers his pouty lips, kissing the air a few times quickly and flustering Castiel so badly that his smile spreads into _exactly_ what Dean asked him for as he laughs nervously.

Dean’s face breaks into a breathtaking smile, too, and before he can even begin to think about what the third pose is going to be, Dean pulls him into his arms so they’re standing chest to chest, still looking at the photographer, and angles his head until their temples are touching. Castiel doesn’t have to force his smile at all now; the feeling of being held securely in Dean’s arms with his own hands resting on Dean’s firm chest has him happier than he can describe. The catcalls from behind them in line has Dean laughing instead of pulling away, and Castiel finds himself joining in, already having more fun at prom than he ever dreamed of before they’ve even walked into the cafeteria.

Dean’s hand stays on his back as he guides him into the caf, and he’s glad the music is so loud because he actually gasps when he sees how well they’ve managed to transform the caf into what now looks like a well decorated reception hall. All of the lunch tables are gone, there’s a DJ on a stage at the far end of the room in front of windows draped in fairy lights and tulle, and a wooden dance floor inserted over top of the usual tiled floor. Colored flashing lights are hanging above the dance floor, the walls are all covered in the same tulle-like fabric that hangs behind the DJ, and there’s circular tables set up for those who need a break from dancing.

He startles when he feels Dean’s breath hot on his ear. “Cleans up almost as nice as you.”

Castiel gives him a playful little shove, even though he’s sure his heart is beating so hard Dean will be able to feel it all the way down to where his hand is still on his back.

His face must give away some of his shock, because when Dean leans in again and asks, “Too much?” Castiel can see the concern in his eyes.

“No,” he says honestly. “You’re just very good at making me forget you’re pretending.”

Dean shakes his head immediately. “I’ve meant every word I’ve said since I picked you up.”

Castiel’s mind whirls. _You look ripped. Feels different doing this stuff with you instead of a girl. You don’t usually look this good. Your hair looks good, Cas. Like, really good. Gimme one of those adorable gummy smiles._ He’s sure his blush increases with every compliment he realizes Dean actually meant.

“Charlie’s sitting over there waving us over. Wanna go sit with them or just keep it me and you tonight?” Dean asks, tearing him away from his own thoughts.

“Um. We can sit with them. I’d like that,” Castiel answers, thinking that spending time with some of their friends might help him to remember that he and Dean are only here as friends, too. Dean steers him over there, pulling out a chair for him so he can sit on it, then sitting down himself and scooching over until their thighs are pressed together.

“You guys look amazing!” Charlie gushes.

“It’s mostly Cas,” Dean says smoothly, causing him to shake his head in disbelief.

“I meant your matching ties, but I guess I can’t argue that. Where have you been hiding those shoulders, Cas?” she asks him.

He blushes and answers, “Just not dressing them in expensive enough clothing, apparently.”

She laughs before sliding her arm onto the chair of the girl next to her. “This is my date, Gilda. Gilda, the pretty one is Dean and the hot one is Cas.”

“They’re right when they say how all the good looking guys are gay or taken, aren’t they?” Gilda says.

Castiel resigns himself to the fact that he’ll just have a permanent blush on his face tonight.

“They’re actually not together, just here as friends,” Charlie explains. Gilda looks confused as her eyes dart between them but nods without asking any questions. “Have you guys seen anybody else yet?”

“No, we literally just walked in when you waved us over,” Dean says.

“Jo’s here with Mick, they’re dancing just over there,” Charlie says as she points them out. “I told them I’d watch their stuff while they got their boogy on.” There’s a suit jacket hung over the back of one of the chairs and a small purse on the table that must belong to Jo.

“You wanna go get the embarrassing shit outta the way now or later?” Dean asks him, smiling encouragingly.

“I think we should warm up to it,” Castiel replies.

“Well, if you’re going to sit this one out, do you mind watching our bags so we can go?” Charlie asks excitedly.

“Have at ‘er,” Dean answers, and the girls share broad smiles as they clasp hands and take off for the dance floor. Castiel stares after them wistfully, envious of the way they only have eyes for each other. “Guess that’s happening, huh?”

Castiel nods. “They look happy.”

“We’ll have to show ‘em up later,” Dean says with a friendly nudge.

“If you look at me like that you’re really going to have people talking,” Castiel comments with half a smile.

“You don’t think I look at you like that?” Dean asks.

Castiel turns to take in his expression, which seems carefully neutral. “Why would you? We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” Dean answers gruffly, bobbing his head up and down before he lets it hang a little bit. “Just friends who are sitting with our legs pressed together under the table, who walk with no space between us, and wake up cuddling when we share a bed.”

Castiel feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. “We’ve always done that stuff,” he says cautiously.

Dean fiddles with the tablecloth while he says, “You act like that with any of your other friends?”

“No,” Castiel says softly, guiltily.

“Me neither.” Dean’s eyes flick up to catch his, and now it’s his turn to duck his gaze, his heartbeat positively thundering in his head, sending a dull _thump, thump, thump_ all throughout his body. “How come?” Dean asks.

“Be-because you’re my _best_ friend,” Castiel rasps out.

Dean sighs and gives his arm a little squeeze. “I’m not about to go all homophobe on you, so take a breath, buddy.”

Castiel takes his advice and the breath, feeling remarkably more steady once he’s done so. “Thanks,” he says timidly.

“How ‘bout I go get you some punch? 50/50 chance it’s already spiked,” Dean says with a reassuring smile.

“Sounds like there’s a 50/50 chance it’s exactly what I need, then,” he quips, eliciting a chuckle from Dean.

Dean gets to his feet and places his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, giving it a little pat before he says, “I’ll be right back. Don’t let anybody else sweep you off your feet while I’m gone.”

“I’ll stay firmly planted on my ass,” Castiel promises.

Dean’s already walking away, but turns enough to point a single finger at him and calls out, “You better!”

Now with no one and nothing to distract him, he’s left with the monstrous task of trying not to think about everything Dean just said and the way he said it. When he said, _Just friends who are sitting with our legs pressed together under the table, who walk with no space between us, and wake up cuddling when we share a bed,_ he sounded almost sarcastic, like it was ridiculous to even think such a thing. And the way Dean was looking at him? It wasn’t exactly the same way Charlie and Gilda had been looking at each other, but he could certainly see a resemblance. Plus, Dean thought he already did look at him that way, which he only brought up after Castiel said the girls looked happy together. Maybe Dean meant the two of them were happy together, too, but just as friends? God, he has no idea and he’s more confused now about Dean than he’s ever been before.

Why did it have to stop being easy? This time last month he was with Meg, Dean was with Lisa, and they were happy just being best friends while Castiel secretly fell a little bit more in love with Dean every day. That was fine, that was _normal,_ he was happy that way knowing there was no chance of anything else. But now, seemingly out of nowhere, Dean seems to be at least hinting at the possibility that there’s more than just friendship between them and he doesn’t know what to do. Does he confess, push, keep acting like his feelings aren’t deeper than friendship?

“Well, well, well, look who we have here.”

Castiel sighs inwardly before he turns to face Meg, who’s standing next to their table in a sparkling red dress that’s fitted to her like a second skin. Her hair is dark and flowing freely down her back in big, loose spirals, and her face is bare except for her lips, which match her dress perfectly.

“You look lovely, Meg,” he says sincerely.

She arches a single, perfectly curved eyebrow. “Not going to slut shame me like your boyfriend did?”

“No, I’m not. Though I can’t blame Dean for attempting retribution.”

“He’s certainly got you wrapped around his little finger now, doesn’t he?” she says, popping her hip and curving her painted lips into a knowing smile.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tells her, looking away in disinterest.

“Come on, Clarence. Just look at him,” she says, and he’s dumb enough to follow her gaze to where Dean is currently talking with Anna. Anna laughs and slaps his chest gently before running her manicured hand down his arm to rest on his bicep, and Castiel feels jealousy twist like a knife in his stomach. He turns away and looks in front of him instead. “He’s using you to play the field.”

Castiel shakes his head tiredly, not even dignifying that with a response.

“You’re gonna be shy _with me?_ After I’ve seen more of you than anyone?” she asks.

“What would you like to me to say? Dean and I are friends, and he’s more than welcome to converse with whoever he wants.”

“So you’re good enough to sleep next to, just not with?”

“Why in the world do you think that’s any of your business?” he asks, genuinely curious. “We’re not together anymore, and considering you outed me to the entire school after promising to keep it a secret, I’m not exactly itching to tell you anything else.”

She huffs, flips her hair over her shoulder and says, “Fine. If you don’t mind being a straight man’s wingman for the rest of your life, who am I to try to help?” _Help, right,_ Castiel thinks bitterly. “Dean and Anna will be good for each other.”

“Good night, Meg,” Castiel says pointedly, getting a husky laugh out of her.

“Save me a dance, Clarence,” she says, running her hand along his back with a glimmer in her eyes.

“In your dreams, lady,” Castiel hears Dean say.

Dean’s listening to Anna tell him all about how her date thought her green dress was purple.

“Wait - how does that even happen?” Dean questions.

“I told him it was jade, but for some reason, he thought jade was purple,” she laughs.

“I would’ve had to Google it,” Dean admits.

She giggles and says, “So my dad lets him in, I do the big reveal, you know, walking down the staircase feeling like a million bucks and -”

“- you fall?” Dean guesses.

He gets a slap to the chest for that, and he laughs at how insulted she looks. _“And_ the first thing out of his mouth is, ‘Oh no.’”

Dean bursts out laughing and she joins in. “That’s even worse!”

“But if you could have heard my dad basically pissing himself laughing at Michael and saw how red poor Michael’s face was,” she says between giggles. “It was the cutest thing. And surprisingly, purple and jade don’t look that bad together,” she says, looking down at her corsage.

“He still got off easy with a corsage at all. You coulda fried an egg on my face after I fucked up Cas’s boutonniere,” he admits.

“I know!” she exclaims. “Why can’t they make a safety pin version or something?”

“Least it looks good on him,” he says, his eyes wandering back to his best friend. His smile vanishes when he sees Meg talking to him, wearing a dress so tight it might as well be painted on. “Excuse me,” he tells Anna, making a bee-line over to Cas and Meg just in time to hear Meg ask Cas to save her a dance.

“In your dreams, lady,” Dean says, announcing his presence.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Ken Doll. He was my boyfriend first. Just one dance for old time’s sake.”

“I came with the only person I’m interested in dancing with,” Cas says firmly.

“You finally _came?”_ Meg asks, smirking. “Congratulations, Deano, you got more out of him than I ever did.”

And with that she spins and walks away, leaving both him and Cas looking after her with their mouths hanging open in horror and embarrassment.

“What’re the chances she’s not gonna spread that rumor around?” Dean asks, sliding into his seat and passing Cas his punch.

“Unfortunately, much higher than the probability of a sinkhole opening up underneath me like I’m currently hoping for,” Cas says wryly. “Though I suppose you flirting with Anna by the punch bowl for everybody to see will work in your favor,” he adds snippily.

When Dean shoves over a bit to put his leg against Cas’s like how they were sitting before, Cas doesn’t move away, but he also doesn’t press back into him the way he usually does. He knows Cas like the back of his hand, so it’s easy to read his non-verbal body language here. He’s pissed but trying not to show it.

“We weren’t flirting,” Dean says honestly, guessing that’s what has him upset. “She was telling me about her date fucking up her corsage and her dad laughing at the guy, and then we talked about how hard boutonnieres are to put on.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Cas says, trying really hard to look like he means it if the way his eyes are boring into Dean’s is anything to go by. “We’re not on an actual date.”

The reminder feels like a slap in the face, though he knows it shouldn’t, considering he hasn’t told Cas he’s been thinking of it that way since he stepped into his suit. He tries to hide his initial reaction by drinking down most of his punch. “Guess not. Though it was sorta starting to feel like it a time or two,” he admits shyly.

Cas seems stunned stupid for a few long seconds. He watches Cas closely as he looks away while he sips at his punch, puts down the cup, then picks it up and drinks again. Cas finally replies with, “I’m sorry if my behavior or sexual orientation is confusing this for you.”

“It’s not,” Dean says easily. Then, seeing the bewilderment in Cas’s blue eyes, he says, “The sex hair and wearing the hell outta that suit is what really tipped me over the edge from curious to pretty damn sure.”

Cas laughs, but it has an air of disbelief to it, and Dean wonders fleetingly how hard he’s going to have to flirt with Cas to get him to catch on that he actually means it.

Just then Jo and Mick join them, flopping into their seats with sweaty faces and plastic cups held in their hands. “You guys have gotta get out there!” Jo says, leaning into it when Mick puts his arm around her.

“Whaddya say, Cas? Wanna dance?” Dean asks.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Cas says, but his lips are doing that twitchy thing which tells him he’s trying to hold back a smile. “But can I interest you in something that doesn’t resemble dancing whatsoever but is the best I can realistically offer?”

“Just gotta put my camera on video mode,” Dean says, faking reaching for it.

Cas’s hand darts out and grabs his wrist the way he wanted him to. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Guess you better keep my hands busy then,” Dean says suggestively, and he doesn’t miss the way Jo chokes on her drink or how Cas’s face goes tomato red. Dean stands and holds out a hand for Cas to take, wiggling his eyebrows at Jo over his head. Then he shoots Cas the most inviting smile he can muster, and says, “Let’s go, hot stuff.”

Cas laughs again, but takes his hand and says, “Believe me when I warn you even my suit can’t make up for the terrible dance moves you’re about to see.”

“I _really_ doubt that,” Dean says, rearranging their fingers so they slot together. Cas’s hand is fucking huge, so big that he feels like his is swallowed in comparison. It’s an innocent thing, but it also makes holding his hand feel absolutely nothing like anything he’s ever done before. A spark of excitement tingles along his skin as he leads Cas onto the dance floor, and they’ve just made themselves a little bit of space when Charlie and Gilda come running over.

He has no idea what kind of shit this DJ is playing, but it’s got a catchy beat anyway, so he starts bobbing his head to the rhythm until he feels like he’s got it, then sways his hips and shoulders in time with the music while Charlie and Gilda do the same. When he looks at Cas, though, he’s standing stiff as a board, so he puts his hands on his hips and tugs him towards him, getting a surprised laugh out of him.

“Just do what I do,” Dean tries.

Cas shakes his head. “I can’t. My hips don’t move like yours.”

“Sure they do,” Dean argues, trying not to think too much about that. “Bend your knees a little and loosen up.”

“I can’t,” Cas says again, but he’s at least moving a little bit. His eyes are so busy darting all over the place it’s no wonder he can’t concentrate.

“Stop rubbernecking and look at my pretty face instead,” Dean says, a teasing note to his voice.

“That’s hardly going to help me relax,” Cas says, then snaps his mouth shut like he didn’t mean to say that.

Dean grins lavishly, licking his lips purposely. “My face distracting for you or something?”

“You can be such a cocky little shit when you want to be,” Cas says darkly, but it only makes him laugh. “What are you wearing that smells so good anyway?”

Dean lifts his brows and suggests, “Why don’t you come a little closer and get a better whiff?”

Cas worries his lower lip between his teeth, a sight that Dean has seen a hundred times but still takes his breath away, before Cas steps closer and leans across the few inches between them.

“Cologne?” Cas asks a few seconds later, seeming to have determined it’s not on his face. “You never wear cologne.”

“I wanted to make sure I smelled as good as I looked,” he jokes.

“It’s driving me crazy,” Cas admits.

Dean’s stomach clenches in anticipation. “Good crazy?”

“It’s even more distracting than your pretty face,” Cas tosses at him, and fuck he wishes he had the balls to pull him in for a kiss right now. He doesn’t, he knows he doesn’t, but his eyes drop to his lips anyway and he takes the excuse of dancing to really get a good look.

He traces Cas’s upper lip with his eyes, taking in the way it bows perfectly, memorizing and counting the tiny little vertical lines on both lips before concentrating solely on his full bottom lip. He wonders if kissing Cas would be like holding his hand, if his bigger lips would swallow his up in the same comforting but exciting way, and how it might feel to be the one being devoured for once. He can see that Cas has shaved the same way he did before coming out tonight, but would his upper lip still feel rough against his when their skin dragged together, or would it feel the same as kissing a girl?

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to be embarrassed by more than my dancing,” Cas says, and _holy fuck_ his voice has dropped an entire register. It reminds him of what Cas sounds like when he first wakes up, and the roughness in his voice skirts over his skin like fingernails.

Then he realizes what Cas must have meant - that him looking at Cas that way is going to make him hard - and his dick twitches so forcefully where it’s trapped in his boxers he has to close his eyes for a second.

Dean clears his throat and confesses, “At least you won’t be the only one.” Though they’re standing too close for Cas to see, his eyes drop between them anyway, down to where Dean’s sure Cas is looking to see if he’s joking or not. “I told you the sex hair and the suit got to me.”

“I’ll never shower or change clothes again,” Cas says breathlessly, and Dean laughs, breaking some of the sexual tension. The upbeat song they were dancing to comes to an end, and much to his amusement because of the timing, a slow song starts.

Cas starts laughing outright, and when it’s clear he doesn’t get what’s so funny, Cas explains, “It’s Ed Sheeran.”

Dean snorts with laughter himself, and since his arms are already on Cas’s hips, Cas loops his arms around his neck as they begin to sway to the music. They keep eye contact as they dance, and Dean can almost see the questions beginning to swirl in Cas’s eyes as he obviously thinks about what Dean said a minute ago.

Sure enough, it’s only a few seconds more before the inevitable interrogation begins.

“Dean,” Cas starts, obviously flustered and uneasy to bring it up. “What’s going on?”


	5. Chapter 5

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

Castiel has to swallow down all the self preservation that he possesses in order to force out the question.

“Why - why were you just looking at me like that? Why did you just imply that you’re attracted to me?”

“Most obvious answer is usually the right one. Weren’t you in my class when Ms. Barnes taught us that?” Dean asks him.

Castiel rolls his eyes and he can see the way Dean tries and fails to hold back a smile, but he’s still not confident enough to voice what he thinks the answer is. Why would Dean be attracted to him when he’s _always_ only been attracted to women? He ignores the small voice in his head that reminds him that a month ago, Dean thought _Castiel_ was only ever attracted to women in a desperate attempt at not getting his hopes up.

“Cas, I’m not trying to trick you,” Dean says gently, leaning in even closer so he can’t help but smell his cologne again. His head’s swimming with it, swimming with possibilities, swimming with _Dean._

“What are you trying to do then?”

“Listen. If any other guy stood this close to me, tried to slow dance with me, or hell, even wanted to share a bed at all - I, uh - I wouldn’t like it.” They’re so close that he can hear it when Dean swallows. “I wouldn’t feel good being close to them like I do you. Unless maybe it was Patrick Swayze or Fred from Scooby-Doo.”

Castiel’s eyes close as his fingers dig into Dean’s shoulders, trying to concentrate on repeating, _he’s straight, he’s straight, he’s straight._

“Feel free to throw me a bone here literally anytime,” Dean says on a heavy exhale mixed with forced laughter. “This ain’t exactly easy to admit out loud for the first time.”

“I know. I just - I can’t think straight when you’re standing this close and saying this to me. I don’t know what to say.”

“Because you don’t want me to say this kinda stuff to you, or because you do but are trying not to?”

A small whimper claws itself up his throat and past his lips, and despite what he just said, he moves even closer so he can bury his face into the crook of Dean’s neck before he can think not to. His fingers grip Dean’s suit jacket and his shoulders heave as he tries to hold in sobs that are suddenly dangerously close to the surface.

“Hey, you’re okay, man,” Dean assures him, swiping his hand up and down his back soothingly. “I got you.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers.

“Are you kidding? You’re stuck with me, Cas. Couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

Castiel nods against his shoulder, and when he goes to move away, Dean holds him tighter, so he gives in and lies his head on his shoulder properly as they continue to rotate on the dance floor.

It turns out Dean was absolutely right about sweeping him off of his feet, because if he could just stay right here in his arms forever he thinks he’d be okay with that. When he feels like he can think clearly again, he asks, “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. Not the safe answer and not the answer you think I want to hear, the actual truth.”

His first impulse is to lie. To tell Dean that he’s only ever thought of him as a friend, and just because he thinks Dean is attractive doesn’t automatically mean he wants to be with him. But then he remembers the warm way Dean’s started looking at him. He remembers how good it felt to tell Dean the truth about being gay and how Dean never let that change anything between them even though he wouldn’t have blamed him if he did, and he goes for it.

“I’ve been trying not to want more for years,” he finally answers, his voice shaky with nerves.

Dean shrugs the shoulder Cas is still leaning on and applies pressure to his hips, drawing him away from his body so he can look at him in the eyes. “I want to try, too.”

Even more scared than he’s ever been in his life, he can’t ignore how good it feels to be in Dean’s arms, dancing with him at the prom. Happiness bubbles over for a split second, enough to erase the nerves he was feeling so strongly only a heartbeat ago, and he asks, “You want to fail miserably at wanting only friendship, too?” His lips twitch when he hears Dean huff out a laugh.

“Been doing that all week,” Dean admits, making Castiel’s heart flip in his chest.

“What?” he whispers, his eyes wide with surprise. Dean’s been trying and failing at only wanting to be his friend all week?

“Now I wanna try not being afraid of it,” Dean says, though the tremor in his voice betrays him.

“I don’t know if I can,” Castiel confesses, wanting to comfort Dean with the knowledge that he’s not the only one freaking out in a really big way right now. “I’m already terrified I’m dreaming.”

“Not like I’m some great catch, Cas,” Dean says dejectedly, causing his heart to clench in his chest. If Dean had _any_ idea how wonderful he is, Castiel is sure he wouldn’t be dancing with him of all people. “I didn’t even know I liked you ‘til Sam and Charlie pointed it out.”

“Y-you - you _like_ me?” he repeats, barely believing his own ears.

“That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to say here,” Dean grimaces.

“But you’re straight,” Castiel reminds him.

Dean shrugs and flicks his eyes away for the first time since they started talking about this. “With a few exceptions.”

“Like Dr. Sexy?” Castiel guesses, trying valiantly to ignore how little space is between them right now.

“And you.” A tiny gasp is ripped from his lungs without his permission. “At least, I’m pretty sure. I know it’s shitty timing and I swear I didn’t plan it like this, but one look at you in that fucking suit, Cas. _God,_ ” Dean laughs, his eyes heating up in a way Castiel’s never seen them aimed at him before. “You look hot as fuck and I really don’t want to keep my hands off of you if I don’t have to.” Now it’s Castiel’s turn to swallow hard, his mouth dry as a desert, excitement, nerves, and potential getting all mixed up somehow and making his dick chub up between his legs. “But I gotta know, will you still be my best friend if I try to kiss you later and end up hating it?”

“I’ve never kissed a guy either,” Castiel points out, his nerves increasing exponentially just from thinking about it. “Maybe we’ll both hate it.”

Dean’s lips curve into a tempting smile, his eyes brightening. “I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing until we get it right. We can fumble through it together, like the boutonniere.”

Castiel clears his throat at the picture _practicing_ paints him. “And no matter what, we stay friends afterwards?”

“No matter how weird it gets, we’ll figure it out,” Dean promises.

“So we’re really on a date? For real?”

“Would that be okay with you?” Dean checks.

“It’s okay, it just makes me wonder how I managed to land the hottest guy in the school.”

“Damn, that was gonna be my line,” Dean grins, and Castiel doubts that people who win the lottery feel as happy as he does right now.

As the slow Ed Sheeran song comes to an end, so does the excuse to keep Cas nice and close and in his arms the way he just admitted he wants him. Dean’s nowhere close to being ready to watch that smile fade of off Cas’s face though, so when he takes a step back as some shitty pop song starts playing, Dean grabs his hand and guides him into a twirl that makes Cas smile grow impossibly wide.

“I told you I can’t dance,” Cas reminds him as he trips slightly on his own feet.

“I don’t care,” Dean promises, and he means it. He feels so much lighter now that he came clean about being attracted to Cas and he knows Cas is willing to give him a shot than he has in for fucking ever, and he doesn’t care if Cas looks like a dork because he’s _so_ happy it doesn’t even register.

To prove it, he grabs Cas’s other hand and starts moving both hands between them to the beat of the music, copying the way he’s seen little kids dance on TV. Cas goes from looking embarrassed to gazing at him like he just single-handedly saved Fluffy from a burning building, and Dean’s never wanted anything as much as he wants Cas to keep looking at him just like this.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” Charlie shouts over the music.

“Best date ever,” Dean says, and then he’s promptly ambushed by a tiny but very enthusiastic Charlie throwing herself into his arms. He _barely_ stays standing after the momentum she hits him with, but he manages to keep himself upright by throwing his arms around her. “Jesus, warn a guy, would you?” he laughs.

“I’m so happy for you!” she exclaims as he places her back down gently. “I knew my gaydar wasn’t wrong!”

“You can thank Cas for looking like sex walking tonight, too,” Dean says, shooting him a flirty smile. Charlie keeps dancing while she’s standing in front of him, and since he can see that Cas is just standing there without his encouragement, he takes a step to the side and grabs his hand again, beaming at Charlie when she grabs his other one and starts hopping up and down to the beat of the music with him.

Gilda points to the table signalling she’s going to take a break. Charlie nods, then a few minutes later, Jo and Mick are there with them and the five of them all take turns doing ridiculous dance moves and copying each other. They do the Disco, the Vogue, rolling the dice, and some other stuff he’s pretty sure aren’t actually dances, but they all laugh and have fun doing them anyway. He and Cas are both sweating and down to just their shirts and ties by the time the next slow song comes on. Cas ducks his head shyly the second it starts like he isn’t sure if Dean’s going to ask him to dance again. Dean steps forwards into his space, tipping his chin up with his fingers and looking deeply into his frankly stunning blue eyes. His hand opens and his fingers spread along Cas’s strong jaw, cupping his face as his heart bangs like a drum in his chest.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his voice low so it’s just for them.

“Y-yes,” Cas answers nervously, and though Dean’s loathe to do it, he removes his hand from his face and slides both down until they’re on his hips. As Cas winds his arms around his neck, Dean’s thumbs find the notches of Cas’s hip bones and he traces the shape of them curiously. He sees Cas’s shoulders rise sharply as he inhales and his blush deepens, and Dean feels a tug, a pull somewhere deep inside of him that’s begging him to kiss Cas.

Considering they’re at school and he doesn’t know how either of them will react, he settles for stepping even closer to Cas instead. They’re so close now that his hands shift naturally to Cas’s lower back rather than on his hips and their lips are only inches apart. He can smell the fruity tang of punch on Cas’s breath and feels his body inflate with every breath he takes. The only thing he can think about is how alluring Cas’s pale pink lips are now that he’s so close to them, and how badly he wants to know how they feel pressed against his.

His thoughts spill out breathlessly with no plan and absolutely no finesse. “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

Cas’s eyes go freakishly wide just for a second, but then he seems to recover with a shy smile. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought that about you,” Cas responds.

Warmth rushes into him so fast it’s almost staggering, and he blurts, “How long?”

“How long what?” Cas checks, his head cocked to the side.

“How long have you been thinking that kinda thing about me?”

Cas looks away with the ghost of a smile on his face now. “You don’t really want to know.”

“I _really_ do,” Dean argues playfully. “Must’ve been torture if you felt like I’m feeling right now and had to hide it.”

“I was happy with your friendship and the closeness we’ve always had,” Cas says. “And half the time you’re annoying as hell so I’m not attracted to you then anyway.”

Dean laughs outright, captivated by the shy but witty man in front of him. He tries to let the previous question go, but _how long_ is still burning in the back of his mind and he’s never been very good with impulse control. “Did you know you liked me when you came out? At my place?” Cas nods. “Did you like me when you first started dating Meg?” Cas nods again, more reluctantly this time. “That was more than three months ago!”

Cas shrugs. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. It’s been much longer than that.”

Dean takes a few seconds to let that sink in. How did he never catch on? Why didn’t Cas ever say anything? Why - “Why’d you go out with Meg if you knew you liked guys?”

“I guess I hoped I could change. Being straight or even bisexual would be much easier than being gay, especially in high school. And it’s not as if I didn’t care for Meg, because I did, I just wasn’t attracted to her.”

“‘Cause you were too busy perving on me,” Dean teases.  

“You have no idea,” Cas teases right back, his smile downright predatory.

A strange combination of lust and nerves overcomes him, reminding him of how he felt when he was 13 right before he botched his first real kiss. He’s pretty sure he won’t mess it up this time, but even the thought of his first kiss with a guy, with _Cas_ , still makes him jittery. He’s working up the nerve to give it a shot anyway when Cas pokes one finger into his shoulder and gestures to the side with his eyes. Dean sees Lisa watching them intently from close by. She’s dancing with some douchebag on the football team, and as soon as she catches him looking, she pulls the guy into a kiss that he’s sure was meant to make him jealous or something, but actually looks all kinds of messy and awkward. He can tell just by the tension she’s holding her in her shoulders that she isn’t enjoying it (she always melted into him when he kissed her) but she still pulls away and looks right back at him with a smug look on her face.

“Sure showed me,” Dean laughs under his breath, looking back at Cas with an eye roll.

“Their tongues looked like two fish out of water flopping against one another,” Cas says seriously, and the visual is so perfect he tosses his head back and _cackles_ with laughter.

It dies in his throat when he feels Cas press his lips chastely right underneath his chin, then again on his jaw as he straightens up, and Cas’s nose skims against his skin until Cas whispers in his ear, “She was still watching us so I thought I’d piss her off a little. I’m sorry if that was too forward.” It wasn’t too forward, though. It wasn’t enough. He’s already chasing Cas’s lips as he pulls away, but he’s stopped by Cas’s finger tapping gently against his lip. “I do want to kiss you,” Cas says shyly before he can say anything. “But not because of her.”

Because Cas’s finger is still right there, he puckers up and gives it a little kiss, which makes Cas huff out a laugh and put his hand back around his neck. Then Dean tells him, “I wasn’t thinking about her at all, I just wanted to kiss you.” He can see Cas’s Adam’s apple bob as he works on swallowing nervously. “I get why you thought that though.”

Cas nods before he angles his head slightly towards Lisa. “Did seeing that bother you?”

“I mean, it looked kinda gross, but not other than that. She’s hot, and I liked her, but it wasn’t until we broke up that I realized how stressful basically being on a schedule with her really was.”

“Because god forbid you were late for one of your morning makeouts,” Cas says, obviously following along perfectly.

“You gonna expect that kinda treatment Monday morning?” Dean asks, making sure Cas can tell he’s not serious.

Cas answers the same way. “That depends.”

“On?”

“What time your exams are,” Cas answers, and it’s such an unexpected answer that Dean laughs again, this time dropping his forehead until it bumps gently against Cas’s.

“Hey, Cas?” he asks quietly. Cas responds with a low-pitched hum he can just hear over the music. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m having a really good time.”

“Should I be insulted that surprises you or...?”

Dean chuckles and brushes his thumb along the shallow dip of Cas’s back. “I just meant it’s easy and fun but still sorta exciting, you know? I didn’t know how I would feel about even admitting that I kinda wanted to put my arm around you sometimes and pull you in nice and close like how we are now, but now I’m actually doing it.”

“And it feels okay?” Cas prompts.

Dean nods as a soft smile spreads on his face. “Feels awesome.”

“I’m glad. Feels _awesome_ for me, too,” Cas echoes, his eyes twinkling with his silent laughter.

Dean feels that tug again, and slowly, cautiously, he brings his chin forwards until their lips are only a hair apart. Cas’s eyes are nothing but blurry pools of blue this close up, but when they close, he knows that’s his green light.

He expected he’d be nervous when this moment really came, but he’s almost weirdly calm when he closes that last tiny bit of space between them for the first time. It’s just a simple press of four lips together, Cas’s lower lip caught between both of his for barely two seconds before he backs away enough to check Cas’s expression. Cas’s eyes are still closed, but he looks peaceful and not like he’s about to freak out or anything. Then Cas licks his lips before he leans in again and Dean is meeting him halfway for a more substantial kiss. This time Cas kisses him back, and he was right, his lips are much bigger and more firm than any girl he’s ever kissed, but it moves something inside of him he’s never felt before, too. Cas’s body is hard where they’re pressed together, with none of the soft give that Lisa’s chest used to give him, but it makes Cas seem strong and masculine in comparison and he likes that just as much.

As their lips rearrange to try a different angle, he realizes it’s not better or worse because Cas is a guy instead of a girl, but it is different. It’s still a smooth, satisfying brush of lips, of exploring and teasing, of finding the balance between giving and taking pleasure from one another, and he gets completely lost in it. He could kiss Cas like this for hours, days, years even. It’s easy in the best way, and he’s sinking into it, relishing every moment and every new sensation Cas wrings out of him. It only comes to an end when Cas’s big hand cups the back of his neck. Dean feels goosebumps explode along his skin and a shaky exhale breaks the seal of their lips.

One look at the flush on Castiel’s cheeks, the wonder in his eyes, and the lingering heat of his hand on Dean’s neck has his heart doing somersaults in his stomach, and he knows in that moment he’s so, so fucked. Any remaining doubt he had about if he was attracted to his best friend has completely vanished, and any questions that were still rattling in his head about why Cas and not the captain of the football team or Benny or Aaron Bass disappear entirely when he realizes it doesn’t matter _why_ Cas, it only matters that it _is_ Cas. That kiss wasn’t any better or worse because it was with a guy instead of a girl. This was the best first kiss of his whole damn life because it was with _Cas,_ and he’s utterly and completely fucked because now that he’s gotten a taste all he wants is to do it again and again.

“I hate you so much right now,” Cas breathes with the most indulgent smile on his face he’s ever seen. Dean eyes him in confusion, wondering where he’s going with this, because he’s obviously not mad. In fact, Cas’s hand reaches out to straighten his bow tie as his bright blue eyes shine up at him through long, dark eyelashes. “There’s literally nothing you can’t do perfectly, is there?”

Dean’s sure his head grows three sizes, and the eye roll he gets from Cas as he shrugs his still fussing hand away from his bow tie lets him know his smile is showing it, but fuck it. Who can blame him? He’s got the hottest guy in the school in his arms, he just had his first gay kiss and totally nailed it, and even better than all of that is the way Cas is still fighting back his smile when they go back to their table three songs later with no signs of being able to stop anytime soon.

Dean kissed him.

Dean _kissed_ him.

 _Dean_ kissed _him._

Castiel can’t stop smiling.

Dean really kissed him! He wasn’t just trying to make him feel better about himself or playing along with prom night, he kissed him square on the mouth in a way that can’t possibly be taken in any other way than romantic. It wasn’t a platonic kiss, it wasn’t a chaste peck between friends, it was a soft and exploratory kiss that already brought him more pleasure than anything sexual he ever attempted with Meg.

And Dean was so tender. He moved in so slowly, so carefully, just to make sure he was okay with it. Then after their first brush of lips, he knows Dean pulled back again just to check how he was feeling, and it was such a sweet gesture that Castiel was leaning in for more without even thinking about it.

And it was perfect.

It was everything he’s ever wanted to feel during a kiss and everything he was secretly worried about never finding. And now they’re back at their table, and Dean has his arm around him for the world to see and Castiel can hardly breathe through how happy he is. They each have another glass of punch to help quench their thirst, and then once they’ve caught their breath, they’re right back on the dance floor.

The thing about dancing with Dean is that they both know they look ridiculous, but they don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Their friendship is so secure that being silly in front of one another is safe and nothing to be embarrassed about. And even now, with what Castiel hopes is the beginning of a relationship that will go deeper than their friendship already is, he has absolutely no shame over doing the sprinkler in front of Dean and the rest of their friends.

He has even less after Dean folds at the middle with how hard he laughs and then promptly tugs Castiel in by his tie to catch his lips for another kiss. It’s a quick kiss, even shorter than their last one, but it’s still monumental. Not only because Dean initiated it again but because he isn’t showing any hesitancy over being affectionate in public. It’s already more than he ever could have asked for.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of laughing, dancing, and yes, more kissing. The Prom King and Queen are crowned, four people get kicked out for showing up drunk, and there’s one public break up between two people he didn’t even know were dating, but he feels like he watches it all through a lens almost entirely focused on Dean.

Dean was holding his hand when the Prom King and Queen were announced. Dean had his arm around him and was whispering commentary on the commotion into his ear when the group of drunk people got kicked out, and they were in the middle of a lingering kiss when the shrill yelling of the teenage girl breaking up with her boyfriend startled them apart.

The hours dwindle, and as he and Dean get closer and closer, so does the end of the night. Somewhere along the way, their awkward, funny dancing turned into something else entirely and they’re all paired off into couples who are entwined together as closely as the chaperones will allow. For he and Dean, that means their knees are slotted together and their arms are around one another, and the only place there’s any real space between them is the place where he wants it least - their hips. Dean doesn’t seem to be able to stop touching him. It’s not innately sexual, the way Dean runs his hands along his back and low across his hips, but he is almost unbearably hard in his dress pants and every time he so much as wonders if Dean is reacting the same way he’s afraid he’s going to embarrass himself right there on the dance floor.

When a fight breaks out, he and Dean pull apart simultaneously to watch. Considering he’s sweating like a pig, he loosens his tie and opens the top few buttons of his shirt, shaking it out to get some air onto his skin. He startles when he hears Dean say his name. It’s a low, harsh whisper of, _“Fuck,_ Cas,” that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, and in the next instant, his fingers are clutching at the thin fabric of Dean’s dress shirt as Dean captures his lips in a fiery kiss. Because the majority of the chaperones are occupied with the fight, Dean doesn’t hold back this time, and Castiel feels himself being pushed back until he’s up against the cafeteria wall behind him. _Now_ their hips are pressed flushed together, and a moan escapes him when he feels Dean’s erection pressing insistently against his hip.

Dean’s tongue prods at his lips and he opens them to him eagerly, sliding his hands up Dean’s muscular shoulders and around his neck. Dean’s tongue sweeps into his mouth and Castiel’s meets it, anxiously massaging them together as lust works its way through his veins like lava. Their bodies are flush from hips to chest, Dean’s fingers are hot and possessive with an ironclad grip on his hips, and this is officially the most turned on he’s ever been in his life and it’s _with Dean,_ _because_ of Dean; the entire world has narrowed down to nothing but Dean.

Dean rocks against him minutely, not like he’s trying to grind on him or anything like that, and he knows it’s most likely just from instinct - just Dean searching for the tiny bit of friction Castiel is sure Dean wants as much as he does - but it has him burning up from head to toe anyway. Dean’s lips pull away from his with a wet smacking sound and Dean nudges his head to the side, leaving a trail of searing hot and wet kisses under his jaw and down to the side of his neck where he latches onto his skin with a hungry growl.

“Jesus,” Castiel gasps, his fingers digging into the back of Dean’s neck. _“Dean.”_

Then one of Dean’s hands is on his face, cupping it lovingly in an intense contrast to the way their lips meet for another bruising kiss that’s all teeth clacking and tongues tangling and so _hot_ Castiel can hardly breathe.

Dean wrenches away with a breathless sounding, _“Fuck,”_ and Castiel has never agreed with anything more in his life.

Dean drops his head so his face rests in the space where his neck meets his shoulder, and as the cafeteria and exactly where they are comes back to Castiel in a rush of sudden clarity, he feels eyes on him. He nudges Dean, and they both look over to see Lisa, Lilith, and the football player Lisa came to the prom with. Lisa’s standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, looking an amusing mix of shocked and pissed off.

A catty side of Castiel he didn’t even know existed until this very moment comes out, and he hears himself simper, “Definitely not straight.”

Dean snorts with laughter and adds, “Yeah, Lis, did you catch the whole show?”

Lisa flushes red right to her ears, but says, “I can’t believe I ever let you touch me.”

“Finally something we agree on,” Dean answers. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go back to making out with my new boyfriend. Come ‘ere, Cas,” he adds, leaning in for another kiss.

Castiel obliges him, but keeps it chaste until he can be sure they’re no longer being watched. Once he opens his eyes again to see Lisa and her friends have left, they both break apart laughing.

“I wasn’t expecting to get any kind of revenge, but I hope you don’t think less of me for admitting how good that felt,” Castiel says quietly.

“Nah. I am kinda insulted that you’re thinking about pissing off my ex instead of how hot it was when I just manhandled you up against the wall, though.”

Castiel tilts his head to the side. “I thought how much I enjoyed that went without saying considering the proof is still digging into your groin.”

Dean smiles wolfishly, rolling his hips deliberately against him and eliciting dual sounds of pleasure from them both. “Why’s that feel so good anyway?”

“Apparently two dicks are much better than one,” Castiel quips, getting a bark of laughter out of Dean.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

Castiel runs his hands down Dean’s broad chest, looking into his familiar green eyes now darkened with lust. “Is that a flirtation, Dean?”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Guess I’m not as good at this as I thought I was.”

“Believe me, if you were any better, I would have some very awkward explaining to do to the dry cleaner about my pants.”

Dean’s eyes flash with heat and he swoops in to kiss him once more, soft and lingering, with his hands framing his face. When Dean pulls away, his thumbs brush over Castiel’s cheekbones and he feels his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s in a series of small kisses, like he knows he has to stop kissing him at some point but can’t quite make himself do it yet, and Castiel is drowning in how good it feels to be wanted in return.

“What did I say about telling your momma, Winchester?”

Castiel reacts instinctively to the sound of the principal’s voice and shoves Dean away from him quickly and guiltily, feeling like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and absolutely _mortified_ to be standing in front of Ellen with an erection that he hopes doesn’t look as obvious as it feels.

“That’s more like it,” Ms. Harvelle comments. “You two behave, now. And remember, no glove, no love. There’s condoms in the bathroom if you can’t keep it in your pants.”

Then she walks away and Castiel is absolutely certain he’s never been more embarrassed in his life.

“Nothing quite like the school principal talking about condoms to kill a boner,” Dean says darkly.  The ridiculousness of the entire situation strikes him suddenly, and before he can so much as stand up straight, Castiel is completely overcome with a case of the giggles. Dean’s smile spreads quickly, and just like that, they’re both laughing until their sides hurt and tears are trickling out of the sides of their eyes.

Finally getting themselves back under control after several unsuccessful attempts when one of them gets the other going again, Dean’s hand takes his and they go say their goodbyes to Charlie and Jo. Walking back out to the car hand-in-hand with their suit jackets draped over their arms, Castiel surveys the stars shining down on them. With the cool night air soothing the flush on his cheeks and Dean’s fingers filling the spaces between his, he legitimately can’t remember a time when he’s felt happier.

“This has been the best night of my life,” Castiel tells Dean.

Dean smiles brightly and lets go of his hand to wrap his arm around him. “Same. And we’re just getting started.”

“That’s right, I almost forget you called me your boyfriend,” Castiel teases him. “Bold of you to assume I’m ready for that kind of commitment already after only having a crush on you for the last three years.”

Dean stops dead in his tracks. _“Three years?”_ Castiel shrugs, unashamed. He didn’t mean to say it the way he did, but it’s out there now. “Three years and you never told me?”

“What was I supposed to say?” Castiel asks, starting to walk again.

“I dunno,” Dean says quietly, recapturing his hand. “Just - tonight was awesome, you know? Makes me wonder if the last couple of years could’ve been just like this if I knew.”

Because he’s been trying not to think about the same thing while also trying not to wonder about how long he’ll be allowed to keep what he has tonight, Castiel makes a joke. “Making out in the cafeteria?”

“What, like that wouldn’t’ve made high school better for you?” Dean jokes back, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Somehow I think your mom wouldn’t have let me sleep over as often if we’d been dating.”

Dean laughs again and nods. “Good thing she’s not home very often, ‘cause I’m not ready to give that up and I’m pretty sure Ellen actually will tell her what she saw.” Castiel agrees on both counts. “You, uh, wanna stay over tonight?”

He doesn’t miss the way Dean stuttered, or how the simple question that he’s been asked dozens of times suddenly has a very heavy weight to it. After everything that just happened in the cafeteria, he’s almost certain they won’t only be sleeping in Dean’s bed, and arousal goes to war with his nerves. “And I don’t mean we have to, you know, do stuff. ‘Cause we don’t. It can just be like it was before plus a goodnight kiss.”

“Do stuff,” Castiel echoes as his heart does its best to beat right out of his chest.

“You know what I mean,” Dean says, and Castiel doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s very likely blushing furiously. Thankfully, they’ve reached the Impala, so they both climb in and get comfortable while that hangs between them.

“You know I don’t know how to do stuff,” Castiel admits once they’re pulling onto the road.

Dean inhales shallowly as his fingers tighten on the wheel. “I’m pretty sure we’re on even ground here, Cas. I don’t know how to do stuff with you, either.”

Castiel worries his lower lip while he thinks about that. Neither of them have any experience being sexual with a man, but all of their kisses and touches so far have come to them easily enough. And it’s not as if he isn’t interested in the idea of exploring further with Dean. He knows Dean cares about him, and he also knows most people don’t get the chance to have a good first sexual experience with somebody they’re as close to as he is with Dean.

“Same rules apply?” Castiel checks. “No matter what happens between us, we stay friends no matter what?”

“No matter what,” Dean confirms with a firm nod.

“Even if it’s so awkward we can hardly look at each other?”

“I’m never gonna stop wanting to be your friend, Cas. You’re like... I guess family doesn’t really work anymore, huh?” he says with a huff of a laugh. “But you’re important. A part of who I am, I guess, and even before I kissed you I never wanted to lose that. Now I still feel that way times a hundred.”

“And we’re really boyfriends? This isn’t a one night thing?”

Dean glances over at him before he flicks his eyes back to the road, looking insulted. “You think I’d do that to you?”

“No,” Castiel replies. “You’re right, that was a dick thing to say. I think I’m still kind of having a hard time believing you really want this, want me, when you didn’t before.”

“I get it,” Dean says. “I just don’t really know how to explain it.”

“I think it would help if you could try,” Castiel prompts him.

Dean sighs heavily before he begins. “I guess I never really thought about it, about you _like that,_ ‘til Charlie asked me about it. Then it was like - I dunno - like a switch flipped or something, and I couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it after that. I don’t really know if I liked the idea of, uh, fooling around with a guy the first few times I thought about it. Didn’t get the appeal,” Dean says, sounding more nervous the more he talks. “But listen.” He stops, licks his lips, rolls his hands on the steering wheel. “Truth is, I kissed you and I just wanted to keep kissing you. Then when we were dancing and we were so close and you looked all, uh, sweaty and, you know, turned on.” He licks his lips again. “Then I was right there with you. Seeing you like that - fuck, Cas - I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life.”

Just hearing Dean talking this way _about him_ is enough to have his pants tightening again, and he has to shift in his seat a little bit to remove some of the pressure the fabric is currently placing on the semi he has now.

Dean’s already pulling into his driveway, despite the fact that Castiel never came right out and said he would stay, and Dean turns to look at him now that he doesn’t have to concentrate on the road anymore. “Was that too much? Did I freak you out now?” Dean asks him.

But Castiel is beyond words. All he can think about is that Dean _wants him_ and he doesn’t care about being reckless or irresponsible, all he wants is to feel Dean hard against him and panting all over again, so he unbuckles his seat belt and straddles him. He gets his foot caught on a seat belt and his back wedges uncomfortably against the steering wheel, but _he’s in Dean’s lap._ He lowers himself down until he can feel the bulge of Dean’s definitely not entirely soft cock press against his ass, and his jaw goes slack for a split second before he crashes their lips together.

This is nothing like the kisses they shared in the caf - not even the one where Dean had him pressed against the wall - this is a hungry, ravenous kiss _meant_ to arouse one another, and he can feel his body responding accordingly. His cock is rapidly hardening, he’s hot all over, and though they’ve only been kissing for a few seconds, he’s already having a hard time catching his breath because Dean is stealing it right from his lungs with how dirty he’s kissing him. Dean spreads his legs, giving Castiel more room to press down harder against his stiffening length, and Dean’s hands slide from his hips to cup Castiel’s ass.

Dean makes a needy sounding, “Mmuh,” sound against his lips and squeezes his ass cheeks, sending a surge of arousal straight to his cock and scorching along his skin. It breaks the seal of their lips, Castiel now completely unable to breathe with the echo of _that sound_ bouncing around in his head, and Dean takes the opportunity to roll his hips, thrusting up against him and making the breath he just took in come out all in a rush. “Shhhit,” Dean pants. “Shit, yeah. This is so hot. I’m so fuckin’ hard, _God.”_ Castiel gives into the urge to grind down on him, getting that hardness between his cheeks exactly the way he wants it, and the sight of Dean throwing his head back with pleasure is something he knows he’ll never forget. _“Oh my god,_ Cas.”

“I want to stay over,” Castiel says frantically, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck, breathing in deeply and inhaling the spiciness of his cologne. His tongue darts out to lick at the thundering pulse he can feel beneath his skin, and when he grinds down again, the leather squeaks under his knees at the same time Dean groans. “I want to be your boyfriend, and I want to _do stuff_ with you in your bed every day for the foreseeable future.”

One of Dean’s hands slowly makes its way up his spine, across his shoulder, and up to his face.

Dean urges him away enough until he can catch his lips again, his mouth open and tongue seeking his as they kiss and touch and rock together until they’re both dripping with sweat and throbbing in their pants.

It’s Dean who pulls away first - reluctantly, judging by the way he keeps thrusting up against him - and his voice is low and husky in a way he’s only ever dreamed of hearing it when he says, “If we don’t stop in the next ten seconds I’m gonna come in my pants.”

“I’d really like to see that,” Castiel declares, and Dean pulls him right back in for another searing kiss that almost makes him forget the rest of what he wants to say. He gives in for five seconds, not wanting to give him the full ten he said he needed, and then straightens up as much as he can with a steering wheel jabbing into his spine to say, “But I’ve got a dozen ways I’ve been dreaming of making you come, and all of them involve a lot less clothes on than we have right now.”

“I have never been more on board with anything in my freakin’ life,” Dean says passionately, making him laugh a little. “Now get your ass off of my dick before you don’t get the chance.”

Castiel grabs the handle of the door to pull it open, and with the sudden loss of the hard surface to brace against, he almost falls right on his face onto the pavement. Thankfully, Dean gets one arm across his chest, holding him up, and Castiel struggles but eventually rights himself enough to get a foot under him so he can get to his feet.

When he looks back towards the car, Dean’s expression is one he’s familiar with. It’s the face he makes when he’s trying not to laugh, and he barely makes it through, “That was graceful,” before he starts laughing as he steps out of the car.

Used to being laughed at by Dean, he just gives him a little shove as Dean closes the door behind him. “We fogged up your windows,” Castiel comments as he notices it for the first time.

“Pretty sure that’s nothing compared to the mess we’re about to make in my bed,” Dean counters cockily. Castiel is officially so hard he has no idea how he’s going to walk into the house, but he follows Dean in blindly anyway with anticipation swirling like a tornado inside of him.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean unlocks the door with Cas’s lips exploring his neck and his big hands tugging his shirt free from his pants. He can hardly work the doorknob because every time Cas’s fingers brush his bare skin he’s rocked to his core with just how much he _wants._ It’s never been like this before. Lust, he’s felt, yeah. He’s been aroused by curves and softness and friction that felt nice, felt good enough to get him over the edge, but nothing has ever made him feel like every inch of his skin is alive and screaming the way Cas is right now.

They _finally_ get through the door and he gets Cas pressed up against it with his cock nudging hard against his best friend’s before it’s even clicked all the way closed. He captures his plush lips to urge him into a deep kiss, his hands already working on getting Cas’s shirt out of his pants so he can get them on his body. The first glorious sweep of his roughened palms skirting up Cas’s bare back has him swamped with desperation, drowning in feeling his muscles jump and twitch under his hands and hearing Cas’s breath catching and shuddering when he touches him or kisses him just right.

More than anxious to keep going, to wring every possible sound of pleasure he can get from the man he has pinned to the front door, he starts on removing Cas’s shirt. Dean’s hands are deceptively steady as he works each button through the hole one by one until he reaches Cas’s neck. He loosens the tie and pulls it up and over Cas’s head, making his already messy hair look even more fucked out than it was, and they go right back to kissing again as he works his shirt over his shoulders.

Cas starts laughing against his lips, and after a few seconds of confusion he realizes why when he sees his hands are still trapped in the cuffs of his shirt.

“You are so high maintenance,” Dean complains with a fake gruffness he knows Cas will see through. But he grabs one of Cas’s wrists and helps him out with the tiny buttons so he can get his hand free, then Dean works himself into the crook of Cas’s neck to mouth and suck at his skin while Cas concentrates on the other one. Once his shirt finally falls to the ground, Dean takes a step back to survey the sight in front of him.

Cas’s cheeks are rosy from his arousal, and Dean’s fascinated to see how it spreads down his neck and to his chest. He’s seen Cas shirtless countless times, but never like this. Never when he was paying special attention to just how wide his bare chest is, memorizing the exact shade of his light brown nipples, or admiring the dusting of a few dark hairs already sprouting downwards from the patch of skin under his navel. He drinks in the definition of his shoulders, his biceps, his strong forearms, and the way his hip bones come to a vee, like an arrow pointing down to where his cock is standing proud in his dress pants.

Dean’s hands dart out without permission, and he’s tracing the jut of Cas’s hips with his fingertips, sliding slowly down, down, down, inch by inch until his fingers meet his belt. His hands go for it next, but Cas’s fingers clamp down around his wrists and Dean freezes.

“I showed you mine, now you show me yours,” Cas says with a playful smirk, grabbing Dean’s shirt and starting on the buttons. He starts with the buttons on his wrists, which gets Dean laughing again, then Cas’s thick fingers are working deftly, quickly freeing him from his shirt until he gets to his neck and he pauses.

“I have no idea how to untie a bow tie,” Cas admits.

“Guess we’ll have to leave it on,” Dean teases.

“I can work with that,” Cas says back quickly and Dean snickers.

“Like a shoelace,” Dean tells him, grabbing one end of the bow and tugging it free while he presses his lips firmly to Cas’s. Cas hums against his mouth as he pushes his shirt over his shoulders and leaves it for the floor.

Cas takes in the sight of his bare chest with a hungry sweep of his gaze before those blue eyes find his. “You’re breathtaking, Dean,” Cas says.

“You ain’t so bad yourself,” Dean replies, sounding more sure of himself than he feels.

Cas smiles shyly, then suggests, “We should probably go to your room before we lose anymore clothes.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, bending over to grab his shirt. “And let’s not leave these here in case my mom or Sam comes home for something and gets the surprise of a lifetime.”

Cas snorts with laughter at the very idea. After leaving their shoes by the door, they walk to Dean’s room together much in the same way they have hundreds of times, except now there’s clothes bundled in their arms and sexual tension crackling between them like static.

Dean dumps his clothes in the corner of his room how he always does, and Cas’s join his in a pile that makes him warm all over in a way dirty laundry never has before. He turns on the lamp next to his bed while Cas climbs on and lies flat on his back, his dick still hard enough to tent his pants. His own cock strains against the fabric of his dress pants in response, and he lets out a long exhale as he wills the image to stay lodged in his brain for years to come.

“You look damn good on my bed, Cas,” Dean says finally as he joins him.

“I bet I look even better with you on top of me,” Cas replies, and while it’s cheesy enough to draw a smile, there’s no use pretending it didn’t send an arrow of desire straight to his cock, too. Dean situates himself next to Cas, one arm sliding under the pillow Cas has his head on, and the other finding its home on a hip bone he can already feel himself becoming fixated with. Then Cas surges up to meet his lips, and he’s pulled down by a hand on the back of his neck and into another dirty kiss that makes his heart race.

Cas in bed is nothing like Cas was on the dance floor. There’s no shyness, no hesitancy, no holding back. Instead, his hands are everywhere. Gripping at Dean’s shoulders and shifting down to his biceps where they stall and Cas makes a sound of pleasure low in his throat. Dean mouths across his cheek and down to his neck, wanting to feel the vibration of his deep voice against his lips. He flexes his arm purposely, eating up the small, breathy, _“Fuck,”_ Cas lets out and smirking to himself.

“You like that, Cas?” Dean asks, nuzzling into his neck.

“You already know the answer to that or you wouldn’t have done it again, you little shit,” Cas answers haughtily, and Dean chuckles against his skin, dragging his lips down his throat to kiss along his collarbone. Cas’s fingers dig into his back as Dean continues exploring his chest, kissing his way down his sternum and to the side to kiss his nipple. It pebbles beneath his lips and he swirls his tongue around it, finding himself just as into this with a guy as he has been with girls in the past. He laves at it, works his tongue against the small nub and revels in the way he makes Cas squirm next to him.

When Cas spreads his legs in invitation, he wastes no time arranging himself between them, his eyes closing with the flood of pleasure he feels when his cock lines up alongside Cas’s.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasps. Spikes of tingling sensation shoot up his spine, the intensity of his arousal so sharp it’s almost prickly. “Why - why’s this feel so good?” he pants, confused but turned on beyond belief. Slowly, he begins to rock against Cas, finding the perfect angle to make their clothed cocks drag, riding the high he gets from every little breathy sound and exclamation Cas makes as they move together. “Shit,” Dean gasps again when Cas’s nails bite into his skin as Cas’s lips close over the spot where his shoulder meets his neck. Cas’s tongue is hot on his skin, and the suction he applies sends a thrill through him, knowing he’s going to have a mark on his body from Cas’s mouth. He pumps his hips against Cas’s again, breath hitching at the sensation, the friction absolutely sublime.

His skin breaks out in goosebumps as Cas’s hands travel down his sides and slip between them. He drops his head against Cas’s shoulder with a shuddering breath when he feels his fingertips tracing his skin just over his belt buckle. _“Dean,”_ Cas says, and it rips him to shreds with the way his voice is so low and rough and everything sex should be. “Can I touch you?” he whispers.

Dean’s heart practically flips in his chest. He nods against Cas’s strong shoulder, his face burning as hot as the sun but his dick as hard as it's ever been just from the very idea of Cas touching him. Then the heel of Cas’s palm is rubbing along his erection and he’s sure his eyes roll up into his head. “Mmh,” he says stupidly. Cas pauses, probably because of how indecipherable that was, and Dean takes in a deep breath to force himself to say, “More.”

Cas’s lips find his skin again, kissing and sucking where he can reach while Dean essentially pins down his upper body with his own, and Cas’s hand starts moving again, rubbing him over his slacks slowly but firmly. “Oh, Dean,” Cas gasps. “You’re - you’re so hard.”

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, embarrassed with just how bad he wants this, how effected he is by Cas’s rumbling low voice. Cas presses more firmly, his fingers trying to wrap around him, and Dean’s mind goes blank as a strong twist of desire low in his stomach steals all of his thoughts. “Oh, Jesus. _Jesus Christ._ Feels so good. Fuck, how - how are you so good at this?”

“Maybe because I’ve been dreaming about it for three years,” Cas suggests. “Feels... feels so much better than I imagined.”

Dean pushes himself up to his elbows and dips his head to kiss him chastely, as a silent thank you, as a gesture of comfort and friendship, and something deeper that he can feel blooming inside of him more and more every second they spend together. He parts Cas’s lips, licking into his mouth and rocking into his hand as he does his damndest to kiss him stupid. Cas thrusts up against him, too, and they somehow stumble into a rhythm of Dean fucking against Cas’s hand and Cas riding the crease of his thigh, and they’re both panting and shaking and hot all over within minutes.

Dean can feel his orgasm rushing to the surface, and he is ready and more than willing to come in his pants with Cas pressed firmly into his bed, but everything comes to a screeching stop when Cas starts undoing Dean’s belt buckle.

Their eyes meet and the only sounds in the room are their labored breaths, the persistent _thump, thump, thump_ of his heartbeat in his ears, and the sound of the teeth on his zipper coming apart one at a time. Then Cas’s fingers are in the waistband and he’s pushing his dress pants over his hips. Dean kicks them and his socks off and starts in on Cas, freeing him from his pants and tugging them off until they’re both down to boxers. Cas’s are black with red seams and Dean’s are plain grey, and as his eyes linger to take in the outline of Cas’s cock - thick and hard trapped under the thin layer of fabric - he notices that his own boxers are darkened with several wet spots along the front.

Cas is breathing hard, he himself is struggling to keep his breaths even, and they stare at each other hungrily for a span of several seconds before Dean can’t hold himself back anymore and he dives on him. Their mouths come together frantically and they both make sounds of pleasure when their cocks slot together again. He breathes in slowly, trying to remember how as he works his hips gently against Cas, pleasuring them both with every nudge of his cock against Cas’s. It’s so fucking hot to know without a doubt that Cas is into this, to feel his hardness straining against his own, to feel it twitch and throb against him.

It’s exhilarating, the excitement and novelty kicking his arousal into overdrive. It’s new and unfamiliar with this hard body pressed against him, but they fit just right, their pelvises rocking together, firm chest against firm chest. The big hands he thought he knew as well as his own are helping to bring him to a height of ecstasy he didn’t know existed and he’s fuckin’ thrilled to find it.

“Dean,” Cas rasps, lips still pressed against his.

“Mhmm,” Dean answers, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and earning himself a choked off sound from Cas that he knows is going to take up permanent residence in his spank bank.

“Dean, I’m -” Dean rolls his hips again, getting a deep satisfaction from watching Cas come apart beneath him. “I’m gonna come.”

“That’s kinda the goal here, Cas,” Dean smirks, thrusting against him again.

“God you’re annoying,” Cas huffs, making Dean chuckle against his lips as he kisses him again quickly in apology. He’s never laughed in bed before, and it’s just as easy and perfect as everything else has been with Cas so far.

“C-can I -” Cas bites down on his lower lip, the simple gesture so sexy and familiar, that Dean drops his head to his to kiss him chastely again despite the fire racing through his veins. “Can I take off my boxers?”

The very idea of Cas bare beneath him has his cock hardening impossibly more and he nods his head eagerly right before he grabs a hold of the elastic band himself. He lifts it up, stretching it over Cas’s erection, and pulls them down and off. He stares unabashedly as his best friend’s cock, impressed by the girth and mesmerized by the veins that map his length. It’s all flushed and swollen and wet at the tip... all because of him... and when he thought he was as turned on as he could get without jizzing all over himself, he’s driven immeasurably higher by the undeniable proof of how much Cas wants him.

“Me too?” Dean croaks.

“Let me,” Cas counters, and Dean licks his lips and nods twice as eagerly as he did only a minute ago. He lifts his hips in invitation when Cas slips his fingers under the band of his boxers, and he gasps when the air hits his bare cock for the first time as Cas begins working them down his legs and off entirely.

He sees Cas’s Adam’s apple bob slowly before Cas wraps his hand around Dean’s cock, tentatively pulling and tugging at his length. His hand is so big, stimulating more of Dean’s cock with one hand than even he himself can, and it has Dean quickly dissolved into a mess; trembling and panting, feeling flames licking down his spine to pool in his groin every time Cas’s hand works over him.

“Is this okay?” Cas asks shakily.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean moans. Cas’s thumb strokes the underside of his cock and Dean bows his head as precum bubbles up and onto Cas’s fingers.

“Oh f-fuck that’s hot,” Cas chokes out. _“Dean.”_

Dean’s nodding in agreement, his words momentarily stolen by the sight of Cas’s fingers glistening while they’re stroking his cock. As the tunnel of his fist works over his head, he groans. “Caaaas... that’s good, Cas.” Cas does it again and a shaky, “Mmuh,” comes out. “So good, yeah.”

“Dean please,” Cas whispers hoarsely.

The desperation in his voice cuts him to the bone, and when he remembers Cas said he was close but Dean hasn’t touched him since their boxers came off, he carefully lowers himself back down between his legs. The first bare press of Cas’s cock against his, so fucking hard but smooth and hot, too, has lust racing through his veins.

“Unngghhh,” Dean moans, his hips pressing firmly against Cas’s spread thighs. Cas lifts his legs to plant his feet on the bed and now they’re as flush as they can be, balls snug and rubbing against each other, and the first experimental thrust has his eyes slamming closed and his breath coming out in a broken, “Ungh.”

 _“Dean,”_ Cas pants, sending a shiver through his body. God, the way Cas says his name is so rough with a sharp edge of desperation that it slices straight through him. “Kiss me, Dean, please.”

Dean’s eyes open to see his boyfriend beneath him, muscular thighs on either side of him, his face red and his eyes dark, and a single curl of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Dean can almost literally feel his heart trip and fall at his feet.

He brings his hand to his face, cups his cheek, and presses their lips together softly. As he looks down at the bliss on Cas’s face, he’s reminded suddenly that Cas has never done anything like this. He remembers Cas saying he’s never been attracted to anybody the way Dean was to Lisa, and he has to fight down the rush of possessiveness that threatens to fill him up. Nobody’s ever touched Cas the way he has and gotten this kind of reaction. Cas has never wanted anybody but him, and the fact that Dean’s able to share this, share his first time with a guy with Cas, too, is really kinda special _(and_ all kinds of hot).

He wants Cas to know that.

He struggles with finding the right words, not knowing how to say what he’s thinking, but pushing through that in order to say something anyway.

He brushes the curl off of Cas’s forehead and plants a soft kiss there, then he swallows hard and settles on, “Thank you for giving me this.”

Cas’s eyes go impossibly soft, and Cas doesn’t even have to say it because there’s no doubt in his mind in this moment that his best friend is in love with him... and that’s weirdly okay.

“Thank you for not having a big gay panic and leaving me with blue balls,” Cas says seriously, and Dean’s so surprised by it he barely starts laughing before Cas takes the wind of out his sails when he adds, “It’s always been you, Dean.” To his embarrassment, the bare honesty both audible in his voice and shining in his gaze has Dean’s eyes filling rapidly.

In an act of self defence, he kisses Cas deeply, tenderly, with his hand still on his face and an intense warmth flourishing deep inside of him that he’s never felt before. One by one, Cas takes over all of his senses. The soft give of his lips as they slide together again and again, their combined sweat and precum slick between them when Dean starts to thrust against him in earnest. The intoxicating scent of their mingling arousal, his own cologne, and the unique but indescribable way Cas has always smelled. The dull light of the lamp a soft yellow behind his closed eyelids and Cas’s hands failing to find purchase on his sweaty back. The sweet and fruity punch still clinging to his taste buds as Cas’s tongue massages his.

He can hear the soft thumping of his bed frame against the wall, the slap of his hips between Cas’s thighs, the way their breaths change from pants to sighs to gasps. Cas’s soft chant of, “Dean, Dean, Dean,” pushing him closer and closer to the edge with the way his name comes out like a prayer.

He can feel the tell-tale building and constricting, the tension in his lower stomach getting tighter, harder, _tugging,_ and - _“Ah!_ Cas!” He thrusts forwards sharply, needing just the tiniest little bit of something more to get him all the way there.

He’s aware of how Cas’s body goes tight with tension beneath him, feels his fingers clamp down as his nails dig into his shoulders, and he hears a strangled, _“Dean!”_ a split second before warmth spreads between them. He lifts his hips enough to see Cas’s cock exploding with thick, white cum, all over both of their cocks, and lust shoots through him like lightning.

He collapses on top of Cas’s muscular body and drives his cock through the sticky mess twice before he’s adding to it with jerky pumps of his hips. He hears Cas choke out an, “Oh, god,” as his toes curl. He forces his face into the bend of Cas’s neck and replays the image of Cas’s cock spitting out sticky white fluid all over both of them as he keeps coming, shooting harder and more intensely than he ever has in his life, every muscle strung impossibly tight as he continues to find release. Even when he’s fully spent, his body now as loose as he can remember it being, he can’t help but rock gently against Cas, feeling their softening cocks nestled together with their combined mess cooling and sticky between them, weirdly elongating his pleasure even though he’s completely empty.

He floats in the afterglow, in the sated, lazy feeling that makes his limbs feel heavy in the best kind of way. Happiness builds inside of him with every beat of Cas’s heart under his ear, pulsing from his chest through his extremities and all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. He’s distantly aware of one strong arm wrapped securely around his middle and Cas’s fingers brushing through his hair gently, making a soft smile curve his lips. It’s only after he manages to steady his breathing that he realizes he’s probably suffocating his new boyfriend.

That doesn’t mean he’s willing or able to move yet, though.

“Am I squishing you?” Dean mumbles.

“Yes,” Cas answers, sounding exactly like he does when he first wakes up in the morning. “But I really like it.”

“Mmm,” Dean comments, stretching his neck out to kiss Cas’s. “That was amazing.”

“I am _so_ gay,” Cas replies, and Dean snorts with laughter, his shoulders shaking as happiness continues to roll through him like waves lapping at the shore.  

“I don’t even what I am, but that was _awesome._ I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

“Really?” Cas asks, sounding pleased with himself.

“Fuck yeah.” He squirms a little at the uncomfortable sensation of cum cooling between them, but he still feels a thrill from knowing how it got there. “Think you got a round two in you?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Cas says, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah?” Dean asks hopefully. This could be a major perk of dating another teenage guy, he realizes suddenly. Almost no refractory period and there’s a good chance Cas is as perpetually horny as he is.

“Well, I was thinking... it’s kind of tradition to lose one’s virginity on prom night, right?” Cas asks.

Dean’s eyes bulge out of his head, and he props himself up for that, looking down at the shy but determined expression on Cas’s face. “You want to have sex tonight?”

“I’m an eighteen year old virgin. What do you think?” Cas deadpans.

Dean huffs out a laugh, understanding exactly how he feels. “Yeah, but you don’t wanna wait until, I don’t know, it’s with somebody special or something?” Dean checks.

“Did you?” Cas counters.

“Obviously not, but you - I care about you, you know. And you deserve... I dunno, something better than me fumbling with a bottle of lube and coming way too fast,” he laughs.

“Dean, tonight was the best night of my life,” Cas replies. “You swept me off of my feet, bought me flowers, gave me the perfect first kiss and the only positive sexual experience I’ve ever had. I’m comfortable with you and insanely attracted to you, and I don’t want my first time to be with somebody else. I know nobody will treat me with as much care as you will.” After hearing Cas point it out, the possibility of some other guy taking advantage of him or not being as careful as they should be with somebody as amazing as Cas makes his insides twist with anger. “But I know this has been an enlightening night for you already, and I understand if you’re not ready for that yet, or maybe even not willing at all,” Cas says, seeming to just realize that’s a possibility. “Actually, I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be interested in penetrative sex with a man in the first place. I apologize.”

Dean swallows hard and asks, “How would you wanna do it?”

“I want you inside of me.” Dean’s previous thought of no refractory time comes rushing back as his dick begins to plump up again just from hearing Cas say that to him. “You have no idea how badly I want that, Dean. How long I’ve wanted it, how many times I’ve thought of it,” he admits. “But we really don’t have to. There’s _plenty_ of other things I’ve -”

“I want to,” Dean interrupts. “Wasn’t sure about it if you wanted to try the other way around, but I could uh, yeah. Definitely into the idea of being in you or whatever,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as excited as he feels. “But you know we don’t have to do it tonight, right? I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m in this with you for as long as we both still feel like this. We’re better than a cliched fuck on prom night, Cas.”

“Eighteen year old virgin,” Cas repeats slowly, making Dean laugh. “I want to know what it feels like. I want _you.”_

Dean leans down to brush their lips together, warmth filling him up when Cas’s hand caresses the side of his face as they kiss gently, lovingly. “You got me. Let me go grab a cloth and clean us up a bit first, yeah?”

“I’ll wait right here,” Cas quips, folding his hands behind his head, and Dean kisses him once more before he gets up. He stumbles towards the bathroom buck naked on unsteady feet, blushing at the whistle Cas gives him as he walks away.

Castiel has never felt more comfortable in his skin than he does right now, lying naked and covered in a mixture of their cum in Dean’s bed. In his _boyfriend’s_ bed, he corrects with a smile. Having never truly experienced desire until they were dancing so closely on the dance floor, he finally understands the fuss over sex and having as much of it as humanly possible. The memory of Dean’s significant weight pinning him to the bed was arousing in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully understand, all he knows is that it felt right and like everything he’s ever wanted.

Castiel lets his eyes linger on Dean walking back into the bedroom. His bow legs are more obvious now that he’s naked, and he follows the curve of them up to where his dick is hanging not entirely soft between his legs, and higher still to his tapered waist, soft stomach, and broad chest. He feels a fresh wave of desire overtake him as he sees a mottled bruise on Dean’s neck he must have sucked there, and he has to actively concentrate on not touching himself when he feels his erection already beginning to fill again.

“It’s unfair that you look that good naked,” Castiel says, relishing the way _he_ can make Dean’s cheeks turn pink.

“You’re one to talk,” Dean replies. “Layin’ there looking like the cat that caught the canary.”

Castiel can feel his smile reach his eyes. “That’s exactly how I feel. I just got the hottest guy in school to come all over me.”

Dean gets a knee on the bed between his legs and wipes up the mess on his abdomen before he flicks his eyes up for permission and lowers the cloth to wipe over his dick. “That was, uh...” Dean stops to clear his throat, his eyes struggling to meet Castiel’s. “Surprisingly hot. To see. To feel.”

Castiel has to pull his lower lip into his mouth to stifle a moan while Dean rubs the cloth over his semi, the moist warmth feeling absolutely blissful compared to the sticky mess that was there a few seconds ago.

He hears Dean inhale sharply and add, “And so’s this. Feeling you getting harder in my hand.”

“You’re naked and extremely attractive and touching my dick,” Cas reminds him, his voice already coming out lower than usual.

“And you’re naked and hot as fuck and lying in my bed,” Dean counters, dropping the cloth on the floor and replacing it with only his hand. Dean shimmies down the bed until his face is only a few inches away from his crotch. His palm skirts up his hardening length before he wraps his fingers around him experimentally. “You’re thicker than I am.”

Castiel’s breath comes out in a low whimper when he sees Dean’s hand working over him. “But you’re longer and your balls are huge,” Castiel responds without thinking, getting a breathy laugh from Dean.

“That a good thing?”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” Castiel assures him. “There’s nothing about your body I’m not attracted to.”

“Just my annoying personality,” Dean jokes, his fingers still exploring Castiel’s length and making him breathless. He doesn’t even respond, too caught up in watching Dean’s rough fingertips trace the veins in his thickening cock, dragging across the ridge where his shaft meets the head, and slipping up and over his sensitive flesh to thumb along his slit. Castiel inhales sharply, his hips twitching as Dean hums low in his throat. “I like that, too.”

“Feels good,” Castiel says stupidly, his brain absolutely fried by the sight of Dean’s hand on his cock.

Dean’s eyes find his again, and then he leans in and Castiel stops breathing entirely as he wonders if Dean’s about to - but then Dean kisses the inside of his thigh and the breath he was holding comes out all in a rush. Dean hums again and opens his mouth, kissing up to the crease of his leg while he keeps stroking Castiel with a loose fist. He can feel his breath hot on his pubic hair and tries to stay still so he doesn’t frighten him away, but he’s never wanted anything more than he wants Dean to turn his head and take him into his mouth.

“I can still smell our cum on you,” Dean says. His face is red as a beet when he stutters, “I - I think I like that, too.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Castiel warns him, his voice tight. “This is already enough spank bank material to last me my entire life.”

Dean chuckles darkly and moves his face even closer to his cock. “Guess I shouldn’t bother checking to see how you taste then?”

 _“Fuck,”_ Castiel breathes, throwing his head back and slamming his eyes closed.

“You’re so damn hot when you’re turned on,” Dean purrs. “So fucking hard for me already and still letting me take my time getting used to this, trying so hard not to ask me to suck your dick when I know you’ve gotta be dying to.”

His name comes out caught somewhere between a curse and a plea. _“Dean.”_

“I got you, Cas,” Dean promises, and Castiel opens his eyes to see Dean licking his lips. “I can’t believe I actually want to do this,” he says, more to himself than to Castiel, and then Castiel feels a wet kiss on his shaft. Dean makes a contemplative little sound and does it again, kissing his way up his length, sealing his lips over his frenulum and dragging a heady moan out of him that feels like it’s torn all the way from the bottoms of his feet.

He feels Dean’s tongue join the party, swirling over the sensitive spot he found, and his fingers itch to touch him but he clenches them in Dean’s bed sheets instead. Dean drags his tongue around his girth, getting him nice and wet, and the sight of Dean’s pink tongue on his flushed cock is almost enough to make him go off like a rocket right there and then.

Dean flicks his eyes back up, looking at him through those long eyelashes of his, and drags his mouth up to take his cockhead between his lips. It takes everything he has not to thrust between that circle of plush flesh and into the wet heat now surrounding the tip of his cock, but he manages to refrain as a litany of praise spills out of his mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” Castiel chokes out. “You look - Dean - you look unbelievable. I’ve never - never seen anything so hot.”

Seeming to be spurred on by the praise, Dean’s lips tighten around him, forming a seal a split second before he sucks and Castiel calls out in surprise. Dean’s usually plump lips are pulled tight around him and the sight of his cock disappearing into Dean’s mouth is indescribably lewd. He feels a flick of Dean’s tongue against his cockhead, sending a surge of pleasure wracking through him so strongly that he knows Dean’s probably getting his first taste of precum. Sure enough, Dean makes a low _mmm_ sound and the vibration that moves along his shaft has him calling out with an indistinguishable sound of pleasure that he’s never made before.

Dean applies suction on the way up and kisses the tip of his cock, his mouth open with his tongue swiping over the head before he pulls off and drapes himself on top of him, letting Castiel feel how hard Dean got from having his cock in his mouth.

“I was really into that,” Dean admits with a grin.

Castiel swallows hard and says, “Words. Gone. Brain. Fried.”

Dean laughs happily and fuses their mouths together, slipping his tongue into his mouth and transferring the taste of his own cock back to him. Castiel moans against his lips, sucking on his tongue desperately to absorb more of it, and reveling in the quick catch in Dean’s breath. Their mouths move together until their lips are puffy and swollen, their skin hot and tacky with sweat all over again, and Castiel is achingly hard for a second time tonight. It could be hours later for all he knows, but Dean eventually noses his face to the side and kisses down his neck, his mouth a blaze of fire along his skin.

“Do you have lube?” Castiel asks now that his mouth is free.

Dean hums against his flesh, nibbling a little bit and making Castiel groan. “Yeah. Nightstand.”

Castiel sends a silent thanks to the universe for Dean having what they need, and he reaches blindly into the drawer and fumbles around until he finds the small purple bottle of _Astroglide,_ mostly empty.

He pushes at Dean’s shoulders to get him to stop feasting on his neck and passes the bottle to him. Dean raises his eyebrows but takes it as Castiel grabs a pillow and stuffs it under his hips. “You look like you know what you’re doing,” Dean comments.

“Eighteen year old gay virgin,” Castiel says. “Prostate stimulation is like my bread and butter.”

Dean’s lips quirk as he squeezes some lube onto his finger tips. “You might have to give me some pointers.”

Castiel nods as his heart races while he looks at Dean’s thick digits wet with lube. “One finger at a time.”

“Will it hurt?” Dean checks.

Castiel shakes his head as he pulls Dean back down and guides his hand between his legs. He’s wanted this for _so long_ and now that he’s actually about to have it all of his patience has completely vacated the premises. “Just do it,” he begs him.

“You tell me if I do something wrong or it doesn’t feel good, okay?” Dean asks him, and Castiel nods again - would probably agree to anything right now as long as it gets Dean to touch him.

He gets his wish only a moment later when he feels a slick finger circle his hole. His body tenses just from that, his sensitive nerve endings sparking to life as Dean rubs around his opening. “That feel good already?”

“Yeah,” Castiel answers breathlessly. “I want you so badly,” he admits.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, Cas,” Dean promises, pressing the pad of his finger against his hole. The pressure stays for several seconds, Castiel’s body strung as tight as a bow with anticipation, and it bleeds out of him all at once as Dean pushes a single finger inside of him. Dean goes slowly, wiggling his way in until he’s buried to the webs of his fingers, and Castiel hears a hoarse, “Fuck that’s tight.”

A whimper claws its way out of his throat when he realizes he has a part of Dean _inside of him._ “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asks.

He smiles at the endearment and answers, “Really good. You can move if you want to.”

Dean’s finger starts sliding in and out of him slowly, carefully, pushing pleasure into his core with each drag against his inner walls. His cock is already drooling all over his stomach, and Dean’s eyes keep flicking between it, his finger entering him, and his face. Castiel is about to ask for a second finger when Dean adds it along with more lube, and by the time he has three fingers pumping in and out of him, Castiel is a writhing mess.

Dean started kissing his way along his torso somewhere around the second finger, and between worrying his nipples until they’re sore and swollen, sucking huge, black bruises into his hip bones, and fingering him open expertly (and nothing like the fumbling mess he said he would be), Dean is methodically tearing him apart one second at a time.

And for his part, Dean is certainly not unaffected, either. Every time he added a new finger he’d curse under his breath, and as Castiel loosened up for him Dean would praise him, telling him how amazing he’s doing and how hot he looks. When Castiel gives into the urge to fuck himself on three of Dean’s thick fingers, he feels so good he’s sure he’s going to come before they get to the actual sex and Dean hasn’t even found his prostate yet.

“Grab a condom for me outta the drawer, Cas,” Dean rasps, his voice just as fucked out as Castiel’s is. It takes some fumbling and a lot of laughter because of Dean’s slick fingers, but between the two of them, they manage to get the condom on Dean’s flushed cock. “How do you wanna do this?” Dean asks him.

“Like this,” Castiel answers. “I want to feel you fuck me into the mattress.”

Dean sucks a sharp breath in between his lips. “You keep talkin’ like that and it’s gonna be over before we start.”

“You still want to do this?” Castiel checks.

“As long as you do.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more, ever.”

Dean makes himself comfortable between Castiel’s legs and captures his lips in a hungry kiss. Castiel spreads his legs wider in invitation, his hole throbbing with how empty it feels without Dean’s fingers, and kisses him back with everything he’s got. He knows this is it, the very last moments he’ll ever have of being a virgin. He’s about to have sex for the first time with the only man he’s ever loved and nerves and emotions and anticipation are all jumbled up inside of him making it hard to think and even breathe.

Dean’s lips pull away, his forehead braces itself on Castiel’s, and Dean says, “Shhh,” before he kisses him again, softly this time. Tenderly, affectionately, over and over until he feels some of the tension in his shoulders melt away. Then Dean is reaching between them, lining himself up, and he feels the first solid nudge of Dean’s erection against his hole. It feels _huge,_ gigantic, like there’s no way it’s going to fit even after being stretched out, and he starts to panic accordingly.

“Hey,” Dean says firmly. Castiel’s eyes search for his, finding them burning hot with desire but gazing down at him with so much fondness he feels himself beginning to relax instantly. “Deep breath, sweetheart. I’m gonna go real slow. If it hurts at all, you tell me and we’ll figure something out, okay?”

Castiel nods shakily, soothed by the low drawl of his best friend’s voice and the knowledge he can trust him with this. “Thank you. You mean so much to me, Dean,” he whispers. “I’m just - I’m so glad it’s you.”

“Me, too, for everything you just said,” Dean answers, and he leans down to part his lips once more, licking into his mouth deeply at the same time Castiel feels the blunt head of his cock starting to push into him. His jaw drops at the incomprehensible stretch, the burn of his skin pulling tighter than it’s supposed to, and he makes a tiny sound of distress as pain mixes with the pleasure of being filled again.

“You - you good?” Dean pants.

“Go slow,” Castiel responds through clenched teeth, and Dean does. The head seems to be the worst part, and once that’s in all the way, the rest of Dean seems to sink inside easily. His body relaxes as he’s overcome with pleasure, and just like that, Dean slides home and bottoms out as Castiel releases a sigh of relief.

Castiel’s eyelids flutter open to see Dean’s eyes squeezed closed, his jaw slack and sweat beading on his forehead. His arms are trembling where they’re holding him up and he’s breathing fast and shallow. Castiel lifts his hands to cup Dean’s face, watching as the tiny ring of green surrounding his blown pupils focuses on him.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks him.

Dean exhales on a shaky laugh. “Trying really hard not to blow my load.”

Castiel’s lips quirk into a smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Fucking _amazing,”_ Dean answers huskily. “Your ass is so tight, Cas, you have no idea. I swear I’m gonna be gentle but _fuck_ do I wanna fold you in half and pound you into next week.”

Castiel’s ass clenches just from hearing him say that and Dean’s still groaning when he fuses their lips back together. Dean uses every trick he’s learned that Castiel is into, rolling his tongue against his exactly how he likes it the most, and pulling away to nip at his bottom lip before sucking it back into his mouth. Castiel rocks against him, giving him the go ahead to move, and now Dean’s groaning all over again as he withdraws a tiny little bit and pushes back inside of him.

Their lips part as he does it again and again, pulling out a little more each time as their breath mingles between them. They take turns kissing each other’s lips intermittently as they move together to find a rhythm that works for both of them. As Castiel lifts his leg to wrap it around Dean’s waist, he realizes he’s rock hard again as his cock slides between their stomachs and pulls a gasp from his lungs.

Dean’s next thrust is at a different angle now that Castiel’s ass is lifted up a little bit, and he sees stars as Dean connects with his prostate for the first time. “Holy _fuck,”_ Castiel rasps. “Again,” he pants. “Like that.”

Dean obliges him and nails it dead-on for a second time, and Castiel is lost. His head is thrown back on the pillow, his eyes closed, his entire life narrowed down to every time Dean slams into him, sending unbelievable pleasure crashing through him again and again.

His head is swimming in the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, harsh breaths are stolen from his lungs, Dean’s lips are latched onto his neck, and his fingers are clawing at Dean’s shoulder as he gets closer and closer to something he’s never even felt before but is absolutely desperate in his need to reach.

Dean’s cock slams into him again, but instead of pulling out this time, he swivels his hips and grinds into him, directly into his sweet spot, and Castiel _wails._ His orgasm rips through him like a tidal wave, he feels his entire body clench impossibly tight and then shatter into a million shiny pieces of unbelievable pleasure ricocheting off of one another, echoing through him again and again.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean curses. “I’m close, Cas. Fuck, fuck - t-touch yourself. Lemme see you jerk that cock for me, sweetheart.”

Castiel’s head is spinning, he can’t catch his breath, and he doesn’t understand. He just came so hard his lungs are burning, how did Dean not notice? But another thrust deep inside of him has his still hard cock rubbing between them and he realizes he didn’t ejaculate. He came dry? He doesn't even know what that means or how it happens, but another desperate sounding, “Cas, _fuck,_ please. I wanna see you come,” from Dean is enough to have him wrapping his hand around himself to give Dean what he wants.

Dean looks down between them and drills into him harder than he has so far, stealing his breath all over again. “Shit sorry, sorry, sorry,” Dean gasps. “Fuck that’s hot. Come on, Cas. Faster.” Castiel follows his prompting blindly, matching the pace of his strokes to each time Dean thrusts into him. “Yeah, like that, perfect. You’re so perfect. Feels so good, sweetheart.”

Every time Dean praises him it causes heat to build in his stomach faster and faster, and he’s so close, so, _so_ close. “That’s it,” Dean croons. “You’re close aren’t you?” Castiel nods, too far gone to even make words. “Mhmm. You look so fucking hot. I’m gonna come so hard, _shit._ Let me see you come, Cas. Lemme see you shoot all over your stomach. _Fuck,_ please let me see. Come on, come on, come on,” Dean grits out, his voice wrecked. “Come for me, Castiel.” 

And like that’s exactly what his body was waiting for, heat rips through him, he locks up, and his orgasm is wrenched out of him with a soundless scream. He explodes over the back of his hand, the hot fluid splashing onto his stomach, and as Dean keeps pounding into him he just hears Dean swear again, “Holy shit, _yes,_ shit, shit, shit. C-Cas,” before he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust that pushes him up the mattress as Dean comes inside of him with a high-pitched whimper.

Just like last time, Dean collapses into a boneless heap afterwards, one hand still holding up Castiel’s leg for him as his face smushes into the crook of Castiel’s neck. Castiel couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around him for anything. He holds on for dear life, his pulse still pounding in his head and his lungs screaming at him for not drawing in enough oxygen, but he’s so incredibly satisfied and more happy than he knew he could feel, and he kisses the top of Dean’s head over and over while he squeezes him tight. One hand starts drifting lazily up and down his spine, and he’s so bone-deep satiated that he could die right here and now and not have a single thing to complain about.

Dean’s voice is rough and slurred when he says, “‘member when I told ya ‘bout sex with Lisa m’first time?”

It feels like Dean just threw a bucket of water on him and his veins turn to ice at the mention of Dean and another person now of all times, but he answers, “Yeah,” anyway.

“‘n’ I said it was fine ‘n’ all but not earth shattering?” Castiel makes another affirmative sound. “I just found earth shattering.”

The ice melts and the warmth is a million times nicer for it. “Yeah?” Castiel checks.

Dean pushes himself up to his elbows and gazes down at him with a lazy smile. “Oh yeah.” Even now looking rumpled with his face shining with sweat, Dean’s heart-stoppingly gorgeous and Castiel can hardly believe he has anything to do with the cocky smirk on his face. Dean dips his head to brush their lips together and Castiel feels contentedness fill him up like air in a balloon. “How’s it feel to be an 18 year old non-virgin?”

“Well my ass is already throbbing and I may never be able to sit down again, but it was definitely worth it.”

Dean winces. “Sorry.”

Castiel leans up to kiss the words off of his lips. “Don’t apologize. I’m sure not many people come twice the first time they have sex, so I have very little to complain about.”

“I’m still sorry,” Dean says, and he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock to hold onto the condom as he slips out of him. Castiel watches as he ties it off and tosses it into the garbage can in the corner, then Dean lies down and pulls Castiel into his arms. His head falls onto Dean’s broad chest and he feels Dean tuck it under his chin. “You happy?” Dean asks.

“Incredibly happy. Tonight was so much better than I could have imagined.”

“Me, too,” Dean says, his fingers slipping through the hair on the back of Castiel’s head rhythmically. “Who freakin’ knew prom would be worth all the hype after all?”

“I can only see one problem after this,” Castiel says, purposely working a joking tone into his voice so he doesn’t freak him out.

“What’s that?”

“With the promposal and the flowers and the dancing and the mind-blowing sex, I think you’ve already peaked. You’re never going to be able to plan another night better than our first date.”

Thank Dean stretches his lanky body out on top of his memory foam mattress and pulls Castiel in even closer before he says, “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Oh, really?” Castiel laughs.

“Yeah,” Dean says confidently. “I mean, I’m just _Thinking Out Loud_ here _,_ but there’s still lots of love songs I can listen to that might help.”

Castiel pops his head up, glaring down at Dean accusingly, who has a huge, shit-eating grin on his face. “You _do_ know Ed Sheeran songs!”

“Dunno what you’re talking about. I just love the _Shape Of You_. Every day discovering something brand new.”

“Oh my god,” Castiel groans, flopping onto his back, but his lips are twitching despite himself.

“Have I mentioned you look  _Perfect_ tonight?” Dean adds, and while Castiel is trying to not to laugh at the shock of discovering his classic-rock-loving best friend secretly knowing the words to Ed Sheeran songs, he feels Dean start to shake the bed with his silent laughter.

He looks over at Dean, who is absolutely losing it over his own lame joke, and Castiel is helpless against joining in until Dean takes his hand and kisses the back of it. Warmth surges through him, and more Ed Sheeran lyrics run through his mind as he realizes people really do fall in love in mysterious ways.

...maybe just the touch of a hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *happy sigh*
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was so fun to write something completely fluffy again.
> 
> If you're an Ed Sheeran fan, you might have noticed there's a mention of him/something about him in every chapter. Did you miss it? You might have to go back and read again ;)
> 
> Please don't forget to hit that kudos button if you liked it! Thanks for reading <3


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